


Waking Up

by airam06



Series: Waking Up 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18 years old, AU, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Soulmates, after high school AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 67,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airam06/pseuds/airam06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone gets to meet their soulmate on their 18th birthday by waking up in their home. It's almost Cas' birthday, and he's terrified. He decides to spend the night with his best friend, Dean Winchester, in order to calm his nerves. Sometimes, though, things don't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed Dean's canon birthday from January to the summer for a reason. All will become clear in the coming chapters. Thanks for reading!

“Hey, Mrs. Novak. Is Cas in?” Dean said when his best friend’s mother answered the door.

“Isn’t he always? The boy never leaves his room,” she said, stepping aside to let him in the door. “Go on up, you know the way.”

Dean thanked her and headed up the familiar staircase to Cas’ bedroom. He had practically grown up in this house; he lived next door. The wall beside the stairs was filled with pictures of Cas growing up with his mom, and quite a few included Dean as well. He and Cas had been best friends since first grade, when some kid had dared Cas to eat a worm on the playground at school. Cas had refused, the other kid had called him a sissy, and Dean overheard the whole thing. He had taken up for Cas. Dean felt himself smile at the memory of their first conversation.

_“Why did he want you to eat that stupid thing anyway?” Dean asked._

_“I don’t know. Probably because he’s jealous of its bigger brain. I have better plans for it,” Cas answered._

_“Yeah? What’s that?”_

_“I’m gonna wear it as a worm-stache.”_

Dean reached the landing of the second floor and turned right to walk down the short hallway to Cas’ room. The door was cracked, and Dean peeked in to see Cas sprawled out on his stomach on the bed, his feet leaning against the wall, and a thick, dusty book in one hand.

“What are you reading, birthday boy?” Dean asked, opening the door and startling Cas so that he nearly fell off the bed.

“To Kill a Mockingbird,” Cas replied.

“About hunting?” Dean asked.

“No. We were supposed to read this for English last semester. How do you not know the plot?” Cas asked.

“I may or may not have asked Jo to lend me the movie.”

“You know the book is always better. What grade did you get in that class?” Cas asked.

“Hey, I graduated high school too,” Dean reminded him. “I must have done enough to pass.”

“You’re lucky it’s too hot in here to argue,” Cas sighed, glancing longingly at the broken air conditioner in his bedroom window.

“That’s why you should be outside. Come on, Cas, it’s summer vacation. We finally finished high school, and you turn eighteen tomorrow. Live a little,” Dean joked, plucking the book from Cas’ hands and plopping onto the bed next to him.

“Yeah…eighteenth birthday,” Cas said nervously.

“Aw, don’t be like that. Everyone has to go through it. I get my soulmate day next month, so you’re the guinea pig to show me how it feels.”

“I know how it will feel. Awkward. I’m going to fall asleep and wake up in a stranger’s house, knowing the person that lives there is the person my soul is bonded with for all eternity,” Cas groaned, face planting the mattress.

“Maybe she’ll be hot,” Dean said, but Cas gave an exasperated sigh. “Or maybe she’ll have a sister, and my soul will be bonded with her. Then we can deal with it together. It’s not the end of the world, man. It’s just a soulmate.”

Cas rolled over onto his back to stare at his ceiling. Everyone he knew was excited when their soulmate day came, but he just felt nervous and empty. He could barely make friends. How could he be expected to accept a soulmate, who could very well be a stranger, and get to know them? What if they found him as awkward as everyone else at school had?

“It wouldn’t be so bad if I had any idea who it was,” Cas said.

“Me and Sammy have a bet going. He says it’s Anna. I say Meg,” Dean said.

“ _Meg_? Why would you think that?”

“You kissed her behind the lockers in sixth grade,” Dean reminded him.

“Yes, and she tasted like cigarettes and regret.”

Dean laughed.

"I can tell you're a poet, because literally no one speaks like that, Cas.”

“I do,” Cas said, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, you do. Poetic little shit that you are. Get up and pack a bag. My mom said you can stay tonight and we’re having pizza. Maybe a Harry Potter marathon too,” Dean said, standing and pulling Cas up.

“I’m not really in the mood for a party,” Cas said.

“Who said it’s a party? It’s you and me. We do that at least three times a week. Come on. If you hurry, we can make a run down to Patterson’s Grocery Store for some snacks and pie.”

Cas packed a bag, Dean jabbering on about how every person in the world except Cas had seen the Harry Potter movies. Cas tried to point out he’d read the books, but Dean said he hadn’t experienced life until he’d seen the characters with his own eyes. He and Cas made their way noisily downstairs, and were met by Cas’ mother, a small box in her hands.

“Cassie, take this with you, and keep it in your pocket. Don’t you dare open it until you wake up in the morning,” Mrs. Novak said, and she kissed Cas goodbye. “And don’t be nervous, dear. Everything will be fine. I’m positive of that.”

Mrs. Novak waved the boys out the door and into the summer sunshine. Dean stopped at his house long enough to throw Cas’ bag onto the porch swing, then the pair set off for the grocery store one block over. They managed to make it twenty minutes before closing, and packed a basket full of chips, root beer, and apple pie, then placed the basket at the checkout.

“Big day tomorrow, eh Castiel?” Mr. Patterson peered good-naturedly over his glasses as he tallied up the total on his antique cash register.

“Yes, sir,” Cas replied nervously.

“Ah, son, relax. I’d never met Nora before she woke up in my house when I was seventeen. Biggest shock of my life. I tried to scare her too when it was my turn a few months later, but she was expecting it. She set up a trap of canned tomatoes by her bedroom door so I couldn’t sneak in. Clever little woman,” he said, smiling rather sadly at a framed picture on the wall. “I miss her every day. You just enjoy every second with that soulmate of yours, Castiel. Time flies. Total is 8.17.”

Dean paid the bill, and he and Cas set out for Dean’s house again. They walked the block back to Dean’s house, taking their time and enjoying the fading light of the summer evening. The trees were in full bloom on their street, Bradford pears blossoming on the greenery, with bees buzzing around the bright white flowers. Occasionally, a car would pass by, honking at the familiar boys. Dean and Cas had lived in Chesterfield their entire lives; in a town so small, there were no strangers. They soon made it back to Dean’s house, but sat down on the porch swing instead of going inside. Dean’s mother poked her head out the door.

“Hello, Cas, dear,” Mary said. “I’m going to go ahead and order the pizza. Veggie for me and Sam, and half pineapple, half pepperoni for you two, the usual.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Anything for the birthday boy. You two come in soon or you’ll get eaten alive by the mosquitos.”

“Okay, mom,” Dean said, and Mary disappeared back into the house to order the pizza.

Another car drove by, and Jo stopped. She leaned out the window to whistle.

“Looking good, Winchester!” she yelled. “I’m free tonight you know!”

“Still not gonna happen, Jo!” Dean yelled back. “It’s Cas’ eighteenth birthday tomorrow, he comes first!”

“As always! Good luck, Cas!”

She ducked back in her car and drove off, honking as she rounded the end of the street.

“She’ll never give up, will she?” Dean laughed.

“Maybe you’ll wake up in her house next month,” Cas teased.

“Don’t even joke about that. God knows she’s been trying since we were kids, but Jo’s not my type.”

“At least you’ll know her if she’s your soulmate. Better than a stranger,” Cas pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess. Man, I hope you get someone you know. What kind of person are you hoping for?” Dean asked.

“Someone with a big heart,” Cas said, a slight frown on his mouth. “Preferably someone I know, like you said.”

Dean shuffled a bit.

“No, Cas, I mean…do you want a boy or a girl?” Dean asked.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, it doesn’t make that much of a difference to me. Why?”

“You’re the only friend I’ve got who’s bisexual, dude. I’m just curious about how the whole soulmate thing goes when you don’t care whether it’s a boy or girl.”

“It’s not that I don’t care, Dean, it’s just that it isn’t a big deal. I’m much more interested in the type of person I get to share my eternity with. I want a kind person, not some…,” Cas said, struggling to find the words.

“Some colossal douche. Yeah, I get that. You’ll do great, Cas, I know it. Whoever you get, they’ll be damned lucky to have you.”

The front door opened and Dean’s younger brother came out.

“Mom says you’re going to catch malaria from the mosquitos and she’s going to say she told you so,” Sam said.

“And what did you tell her?” Dean asked.

“That it’s statistically unlikely, but I’d come get you anyway. Hey, Cas, happy birthday,” Sam added.

“Thank you. We better go in, then,” Cas said, and he and Dean rose from their swing to go inside with Sam.

They walked up the stairs to Dean’s room, and Mary yelled after them.

“Don’t get too comfortable! The pizza will be here soon!”

“Okay, mom! We’re just going to play some video games. Call us when you need us!”

All three boys sat down in front of Dean’s television, and Dean turned on Mario Kart. Within minutes, Dean and Sam were too busy lobbing shells and bananas at each other to worry about winning, and Cas took advantage of their distraction to take the lead.

“Dammit, Sam, that’s cheating!” Dean yelled as Sam swerved in front of him and dropped a banana in his path.

“How is that cheating? It’s in the game, it’s allowed!” Sam countered, but gave a disgruntled sigh as Dean hit him from behind with a red shell.

“Suck on that! Yeah, baby, third place! Wait, Cas, you won?” Dean said.

“I do every time we play with Sam. You get distracted easily,” Cas said.

“I have the concentration of a professional golfer,” Dean said, and Sam’s character hobbled over the finish line in ninth place. “I just like to piss off Sammy.”

“Boys!” Mary yelled from downstairs. “Pizza is here!”

They descended the stairs and made their way to the dining room. Mary had the pizza boxes open already, and a handmade cake sitting on the table for dessert.

“I knew you wouldn’t want a party, but it’s not much of a birthday without cake. I hope you don’t mind,” Mary said, and Cas smiled.

“Thank you, this is perfect,” Cas replied, and they all sat at the wooden table to eat together.

Dean and Cas laughed and joked with each other through dinner, and Mary was pleased to watch them together. She loved Cas like a son, and always appreciated the way he made Dean relax. He’d had a hard time doing that since John had been killed. Mary easily remembered the day it had happened. She was making lunch, waiting for John to get home from a hunting trip, when she got the call from the hospital. John had been hit by a drunk driver. He had been killed instantly.

That day had been a blur. She had pulled the boys out of school, and made the final preparations for John’s funeral. They hadn’t gotten home until after ten that night, exhausted and starving, but no one was willing to cook. Not even five minutes after arriving, there was a knock on the door. When Mary answered, Cas was standing there, a big casserole still steaming in his gloved hands, and bags packed with enough food to keep Mary from having to cook for a week.

Mary had certainly appreciated it, but Dean was downright thankful. He barely gave Cas time to deposit the things on the dining room table before wrapping his arms tightly around the other boy and sobbing into his shoulder. Cas had simply stood there while Mary quietly exited the room. He had slept over that night, and every night for nearly two weeks, helping Mary cook meals and clean house, even though she protested, and slowly bringing Dean back from the edge of depression. He had sat by Dean’s side at the funeral, squeezing his wrist when he felt things were getting too emotional for him, as a gentle reminder that he was not alone.

Naomi, Cas’ mother, came over often as well to speak with Mary and attempt to liven her spirits.

_“Are you certain he’s not overstaying his welcome?” Naomi asked._

_“Honestly, Naomi, I don’t think we could get through this without him.” Mary replied._

“Mom. Earth to mom,” Sam was saying.

“Sorry, dear, what?” Mary said, bringing her attention back to the present.

“I was just saying we had something for Cas, don’t we?” Sam asked.

“Of course. Here, sweetie, happy birthday,” she said, pulling a small gift from under the table.

“You really didn’t need to do this,” Cas said, his face flushing.

“Shut up, Cas, you’re family,” Dean said, grinning as Cas opened the gift.

Inside the box was a book, dog-eared and used, its colors faded over time. Still, the white and yellow cover was beautiful in its antique look, the red letters spelling out the name across the front.

_The Tin Woodman of Oz_

Cas opened the book gingerly. He could see the age on the pages, and see the love that some child had taken to carefully scrawl their name under the title. It was perfect.

“Thank you so much,” Cas said, eyes still skimming the pages.

“Well, mom thought you deserved it. It was hers when she was a kid,” Dean said, and Cas looked quickly back at the name. 

Upon closer inspection, Ca could make out the name written in crayon. Mary Campbell. He stood up from his seat at the table and crossed over to Mary, wrapping his arms around her for a tight hug.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” Cas said, and Mary patted him gently on the back.

“You’re very welcome,” Mary said.

After a piece of chocolate cake each, the boys helped Mary tidy up the kitchen, then went to their own rooms. It was getting late, and Sam went to bed. Cas was beginning to get nervous again, his leg twitching as he and Dean started on the first Harry Potter movie. His palms were sweating, and he continuously rubbed them down his legs, attempting to dry them in vain. He raised his hand to point to something on the screen and his hand shook.

“Dude, calm down,” Dean said, sitting back to look at him. “I told you, everything will be fine.”

“You can’t know that!” Cas said, his nerves getting the best of him. “Who’s to say I won’t be stuck with someone who doesn’t like me? Who hates reading and poetry, and wants to change me?”

“ _Cas_. That isn’t going to happen, man,” Dean said, adjusting himself on the bed so he could look at Cas more clearly. “I told you, you’re freakin’ awesome. Whoever is your soulmate is going to understand that as soon as they meet you. I know it. Look, I was going to wait until tomorrow, but here.”

Dean reached under his pillow and pulled out a leather-bound book. Cas took it, and noticed his name in delicate embroidery at the top. He opened it and found blank, lined pages.

“It’s a journal for your poetry,” Dean said. “I know you write it in that notebook of yours at home, but your stuff…it’s really, really good. It deserves to be written down in something better.”

“Dean,” Cas breathed out. “This is perfect.”

“Yeah, well, who knows you better than me?” Dean said, and he reclined back against the wall again.

Cas felt his heartbeat return to normal, and he lay back against the wall as well, shoulder to shoulder with his best friend. They made it through the first movie and began the second, resuming their positions on the bed. Halfway through that, Dean readjusted himself to lay on his side, face propped up in his hand, squishing Cas into the corner.

“Ah, shit dude, sorry. Just lay down, the movie’s almost over anyway.”

Cas lay down on his stomach beside Dean, head turned to one side to watch the film. He felt at ease now, after hearing the things Dean had told him. Perhaps it would be fine. Slowly, Cas’ eyes began to droop shut, and soon he was breathing deeply, asleep.

Dean noticed that Cas had dozed off, and didn’t dare wake him to turn off the movie. He knew Cas was terrified, far more than he had ever been before. Dean would never admit it, but he was scared too. 

Cas deserved someone as perfect as he was. Dean remembered Cas sitting up with him late at night, talking about ridiculous things: girls (and boys, once Cas had come out to Dean in the eighth grade), why the soulmate spell had first been enacted all those years ago, and who they thought would be soulmates in their class. Sometimes they didn’t talk at all. Sometimes, especially after John had died, Cas would hold onto Dean while he cried, agonizing over the fact that he’d argued with his dad before he left. He felt so damn guilty. Cas had pulled him out of that depression, that hell, he was in. 

Dean closed his eyes, the movie ending and going back to the title screen. He squinted his eyes open and moved just enough to hit mute on the remote before closing them again. Dean lay in the dark room, listening to Cas’ breathing and hoping, wishing, _begging_ , that whoever was lucky enough to be soulmates with Cas would understand the angel he truly was.


	2. Chapter 2

Bright sunlight was streaming directly onto Dean’s face. He grumbled, throwing his hand up to cover his eyes, cursing vaguely under his breath at how early the sun rose in the summer. He rolled over in an attempt to get more sleep, but was met with a solid figure in his way.

“Dammit, Sammy, move over,” he grunted, giving his brother a small shove in the back of the head.

His hands met short hair instead of Sam’s long, messy mop. That wasn’t right. Dean suddenly remembered the night before, and sat up so quickly that he saw stars.

“ _Cas_!” he yelled out, and the loud sound sent Cas scrambling to sit up as well.

“What the _hell_ , Dean?” he groaned, then froze. “No…”

“You’re damn right, no!” Dean said. “What are you still doing here?”

Cas rubbed his hand over his face, still trying to wake up.

“You know very well why I’m here. It’s my eighteenth birthday today. I woke up in your house.”

“This isn’t happening,” Dean said. “I’m dreaming. There is no way this is really happening.”

“Wow, thanks, Dean,” Cas said, his temper slightly heightened by the sudden, and shocking, awakening. “Sorry this is such a disappointment for you.”

“What? Cas, you’re my best friend! My _guy_ best friend! I expected you to wake up in Meg’s house, not mine! Holy shit.”

“Dean Winchester, what is all that noise?” Mary said from the hallway, before opening the door and seeing Cas sitting on the bed. “Oh. Good morning, Cas. What is all the yelling for?”

“Seriously? Mom, Cas woke up here! With me,” Dean said.

“I can see that. But that doesn’t answer my question,” Mary said.

“Hey, maybe it’s not me!” Dean said suddenly, turning excitedly to Cas. “Maybe it’s Sam!”

Cas blinked.

“I’m sorry, you think this is over your _brother_? That's impossible, and you know it. I’m going home. Thanks for the party and everything, Mrs. Winchester,” Cas said, and he quickly stood and grabbed his bag before heading out of the room.

Mary heard the door close downstairs, and sighed, coming to sit on the edge of Dean’s bed.

“Dean, you could have handled that much better,” she said.

“What are you talking about? Did you not just see Cas wake up here on his soulmate day?” Dean asked.

“Don’t you dare get an attitude with me,” she said, and Dean closed his mouth instantly. “Of course I saw it. I just don’t understand the issue here.”

“Mom. He’s my best friend. And he’s a guy. I’ve never had feelings for a guy before,” Dean said.

“Oh, sweetie,” Mary said with a smile, taking his hand in hers. “You’ve been in love with that boy for years. I never could figure out why you didn’t just admit it.”

“No way,” Dean said, but Mary just continued to smile.

“Remember when you broke your arm in gym class? You were in middle school then, and you called me at work, hysterical. I came to get you at school, and Cas was in the nurse’s office with you. They told me you wouldn't calm down unless he was allowed in the room too.”

Dean closed his eyes briefly at the memory. Cas, sitting next to him in Nurse Ellen’s office, holding his hand and telling him stupid knock-knock jokes until his mom had finally come to the school.

“And there was that time when I was watching Cas while Naomi had that job interview. You two were playing tag in the front yard, and Cas fell over the tree stump and twisted his ankle. You carried him inside to me. You didn’t even put him down, you just let him sit in your lap on the couch. I’ve only ever seen you act like that with Sam.”

“Mom, I don't- I can’t,” Dean said, a pained expression on his face.

“You can, son. You just won’t let yourself. Now, I’m going to go make some pancakes for breakfast. Come down if you get hungry.”

Mary left Dean alone to his confusing thoughts. Of course he cared about Cas. They were best friends, and had been for years. Everyone knew that. But _soulmates_? 

Dean lay back against his pillow, pushing his hands into his forehead to dull the ache there. Why had Cas been so upset? Surely he didn’t feel anything for Dean. He would have told him a long time ago if he had. Cas would tell Dean anything.

Dean glanced over at the table, his phone charging on the messy cluster of papers and books there. Maybe he should just text Cas. Have him come over so he could explain this mess. Dean wasn’t gay, dammit, so how could he live with this the rest of his life?

There wasn’t a way out; the soulmate spell was binding, meaning you got one shot at love. It was either accept the one given to you, or live life alone as a social outcast. He and Cas would just have to deal with it. Nothing had to change. They could stay friends, just like they always had. They could play video games and watch movies together, talk about poetry and the differences between books and movies. They may be bonded soulmates, but they didn’t have to be a couple. 

Dean’s cell phone buzzed and shocked him out of his thoughts. He reached over and looked at the screen. Jo.

“Hey, Jo,” he answered.

“Hey, Winchester. Is Cas gone?” she asked, and Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah. He’s gone.”

“Is everything okay?” Jo asked.

“Yeah. No. I don’t know, Jo,” Dean answered her.

“What happened?”

“He woke up here.”

“Oh,” Jo said.

“Really? All you can say is ‘ _oh_ ’?” Dean said.

“Well…it wasn’t all that surprising, really,” Jo replied. “In fact, Becky owes me ten bucks.”

“You _bet_ on it?” Dean exclaimed.

“Yeah, I knew it was a surefire thing. But why is he gone?” Jo asked.

“I may have said his soulmate was Sam instead of me,” Dean mumbled.

“You idiot.”

“I know.”

Jo was quiet on the phone for a moment.

“How do you feel about him?” she asked.

“Dammit, Jo, I don’t know! He’s my best friend. I’ve never been attracted to guys.”

“But you’re attracted to him?” she asked.

“No! I just...I don't know. I never even thought this was a possibility. Jesus, what would Dad say?”

“Ah, I get it now. Dean, who cares what he’d say?” Jo said.

“I’m not talking about this right now. I have to go, sorry Jo,” Dean said.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Listen, Winchester, just get your head out of your ass and do what you know is right. Call me later if you want to. Bye.”

Dean hung up the phone.

He lay back on the bed, head still aching, but now he at least understood the problem. Dean had been drilled by John his entire life to be manly. No crying allowed, taught to shoot guns at targets and animals, fixing cars by the time he was eight. He remembered playing with Cas once when they were very young, and they pretended the floor was lava. 

_“Dean! Give me your hand!” Cas yelled, standing on the couch in the living room._

_“Go on without me!” Dean cried out dramatically._

_“No!” Cas said loudly, and grabbed Dean’s hand to pull him to safety, just as John walked through the door._

_“Dean!” John yelled._

_“Sir?”_

_“You some kind of sissy? Don’t you hold hands with a boy!”_

_“Right, sir, sorry.”_

Dean groaned, his stomach giving a hungry roll. The smell of Mary’s pancakes wafted into his room, and he swung his legs over the side of the bed to go down to breakfast.

He found Sam and Mary finishing breakfast at the table. Sam wolfed down the last of his fourth pancake, and stood to take his plate to the kitchen.

“Mom, is it okay if I go to Jess’ house today?” Sam asked.

“Sure, sweetie. Just be home by dark. Let me make you some pancakes, Dean,” she said, and Sam waved goodbye as he headed out the door.

Mary took her plate to the sink and began to mix a fresh batch of batter, with Dean standing beside her to watch.

“Want some blueberries in them?” she asked, and Dean shook his head. “Plain it is then.”

“Mom, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she said, pouring the batter onto the griddle.

“I messed up. I shouldn’t have been so rude to Cas. It’s just…Mom, what would Dad say?”

Mary stiffened slightly, and the pancakes sizzled on the griddle. She breathed out slowly, and when she answered Dean, it was with a slightly sad tone.

“Your father was my soulmate, Dean, and I loved him more than I could imagine. But he could be, to use your words, a colossal douche.”

Dean gave a small chuckle, and Mary grinned over her shoulder at him.

“He was wonderful in so many ways. I’d never met anyone like him. He wasn’t always right, though. In fact, when it came to you, he was often wrong. Your father was raised in a different type of home than I was. Masculinity was connected to strength to him. He wanted you and Sam to be strong men, and in his eyes, you had to act a certain way.”

Mary flipped the pancakes and they sizzled loudly.

“He called me a sissy sometimes,” Dean muttered, and Mary nodded.

“I know. And I’d fight with him every time he did it, but he’d always do it again. When you came home the day you met Cas and told me what happened, I knew why you stood up for him. It was that word. You hated that word,” Mary smiled. “It’s almost poetic justice. John made you hate that word, and your strongest friendship came out of it.”

“Mom…this whole thing is hard for me,” Dean said softly. “But Dad, he’d lose his mind over it.”

“Dean,” Mary said, pulling the pancakes from the griddle and placing them on a plate. “Your Dad is gone. Even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. Your happiness is the important thing, not John’s idea of what a ‘real’ man should be. You have to learn to be your own person, sweetheart. Not what you think Dad would have wanted you to be.”

“I think I need to go see Cas.”

“You do,” Mary agreed. “But not on an empty stomach. Eat first, then walk over to the Novak’s and fix this.”

Dean ate his pancakes quickly, and placed the plate in the sink. He threw on some comfortable clothes, then quietly left to go see Cas. He had barely knocked on the door when Mrs. Novak answered.

“Oh, um, hey Mrs. Novak. Is Cas-?” he stuttered.

“Yes, he is, but please come in to the living room for a moment,” Naomi said, stepping back and letting Dean in.

Dean moved nervously to the living room, and sat in a comfortable chair. Naomi sat down across from him.

“I understand Cas woke up at your house this morning, and things didn’t go so well,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Your mom and I have known this was coming for years, Dean. Why it surprised you two, I’ll never know,” she said.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Novak. I just wasn’t expecting it to be me,” Dean admitted.

“Who were you expecting?” 

“Meg?” Dean suggested, and Naomi balked.

“ _Meg_? The chain smoking drop out, with two stints in juvenile hall? You would honestly rather Cas be bonded to her than you?” Naomi asked.

“No, no of course not!” Dean sighed. “He’s really mad at me, isn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so. In all these years, has Cas ever told you about his father?” Naomi asked, and Dean shook his head.

“No, ma’am. I asked him once after we met, and he cried. I never brought it up again, and neither has he.”

“I think it may be time to ask him about it again. That may explain his reaction better than I could. Go on, now. He’s in his room,” Naomi said, and Dean stood.

“Thanks, Mrs. Novak. And I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, Dean, but I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” Naomi said gently, and Dean left the room to find Cas.

Dean climbed the stairs to Cas’ room. As he got closer, he could recognize the sounds of violin music. Cas always listened to violin music when he was writing his poetry. Dean felt his heart drop; he had really messed up this time.

“Cas?” Dean knocked on his door, and Cas stopped the music. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Cas said, and Dean opened the door.

He felt his heart jump to his throat when he saw Cas sitting on the bed, his mp3 player plugged into a dock, and the new leather journal from Dean open in his lap.

“You busy?” he asked, but Cas disregarded the comment completely, continuing to stare down at his journal. “Jesus, it’s hot in here. We gotta get your air conditioner fixed…Cas, man, I want to talk.”

“Then talk,” Cas replied shortly.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said.

“Good.”

“Am I forgiven?”

“No.”

“Cas…look, when I got here, your mom made me come in the living room and sit down with her before she’d let me come up here,” Dean said.

“I thought she would,” Cas answered.

“She said I should ask you about your dad.”

Whatever Cas had been expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. He sat perfectly still, and Dean edged closer to him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“You’ve never talked about him before. She said it would help me understand,” Dean said.

“Dean…I don’t know my dad. We have never met.”

“I didn’t realize he had died, Cas, I’m sorry.”

“He isn’t dead.”

A wave of shock equal to that morning passed over Dean. It was unheard of for soulmates to separate and one parent to raise the child. In the rare chance that it did happen, the family was shunned. Leaving your soulmate, especially after having a child, was the highest social dishonor a person could commit.

“Cas…”

“Mom never hid the truth from me. How he left when she found out she was pregnant with me, saying he couldn’t be a father. He didn’t _want_ me, Dean. My very existence caused him to leave Mom. She will never have another soulmate. She will always be alone, and I carry that burden.”

Dean gingerly put his arm around Cas’ shoulders, though Cas bit back any tears threatening to fall. Cas didn’t throw it off, but he didn’t relax into it either.

“This morning was unexpected to me as well,” Cas said. “But I wasn’t disappointed. At least I know you. Then I realized how upset you were by having me as a soulmate, and knew that you didn’t want me either.”

Dean pulled the other boy to him, wrapping him tightly in his arms, and felt relieved when Cas hugged his arms around him as well.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen with us now, but I can promise you, you will always be wanted and you will never be alone. Even if you weren’t my soulmate, I wouldn't let that happen.”

“So what now?” Cas asked, his voice muffled against Dean’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, but how about we start with a walk? Seriously, dude, it’s like a sauna in here.”

Cas gave a watery laugh and sat up, closing his leather notebook and placing it on the bedside table.

“That sounds perfect.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean and Cas had slipped out quietly into the morning, Naomi only nodding her agreement when Cas had mentioned going for a walk. She seemed slightly ill, even more pale than usual. Still, she knew the boys needed time on their own. They made their way toward the town park in near silence, waving hello to familiar faces as they passed. Soon, they passed through the old stone entranceway to the town park, nearly deserted in the early morning.

“Want to swing?” Dean asked, pointing at the abandoned swing set.

“Sure,” Cas said awkwardly, and took a seat next to Dean when they reached it.

They barely moved in their swings, feet on the ground rocking them slightly. The silence billowed between them until Cas couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, just because we’re soulmates, it doesn’t mean we have to be together,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean replied. “But people will talk.”

Cas knew it was the truth. People didn’t abandon their soulmates. They were supposed to marry them, live happily ever after. If they didn’t, no one ever accepted them again. It was signing a social death contract. Cas sighed.

“They will. We’ll be outcasts, Dean. I’m used to that, but I never want you to live through it.”

Dean closed his eyes momentarily. Cas was doing his best to protect him.

“I just hate that it has to be this way. I’m glad it was you instead of some stranger, of course. It’s still hard though. We’ve always been so close, but some force decides to make things weird by deciding we’re soulmates. I liked how we were before,” Cas said.

Dean’s eyes widened.

“So why change it? Cas, that’s it!” Dean exclaimed. “We just keep doing what we’ve always done, but we also fake a relationship!”

“What, you mean fake affection?” Cas asked.

“Exactly! We already know everything about each other. We just throw in some hugs and shit. No one will ever know!” Dean said excitedly.

“That…that may work, actually,” Cas agreed. “We stay best friends, nothing gets weird. You’re a genius, Dean.”

“I know it, but don’t remind me. It’ll go straight to my head.”

The day after that went much more smoothly. The boys spent a few hours at the park, grabbed some burgers at the diner, and were deciding on a movie on the picnic table outside when Meg walked up.

“Cas, sweetie, happy birthday,” she drawled, taking a long pull from a cigarette. “I have to say, I was disappointed you didn’t wake up in my house this morning. We could have had some fun.”

Meg flicked her ashes onto the ground, smiling suggestively at Cas, who looked uncomfortable. It put Dean instantly on guard.

“Sorry, Meg, I guess you weren’t meant for me.”

“No, I suppose Dean was instead. Isn’t that right?” she said to Dean.

“Yup. Spot on observation skills, as always. Don’t you have some puppies to kick or something?” Dean answered coldly.

Meg gave a mirthless laugh.

“A girl can’t stop for a drink?” she said. “I can tell when I’m not wanted. But you two should really hold hands or something when you’re out in public like this. You know how people _talk_.”

Meg walked into the diner, flicking her cigarette onto the ground as she left.

“Okay, I take it back. I am _so_ glad you didn’t wake up to her this morning. When did she go all batshit crazy?” Dean asked.

“Sometime around our junior year. Remember those text messages she’d send me? They were quite graphic.”

“Couldn’t forget those if I tried,” Dean said, grinning.

“Hey, boys!” Jo’s voice rang out, and they turned to greet her. “Happy birthday, Cas!”

“Thanks, Jo,” Cas said with a smile.

“What have you two been up today?” Jo asked, casting a meaningful glance at Dean, who rolled his eyes.

“You’re looking at it. Just a trip to the park, and some lunch,” Dean said.

“Celebrating their new soulmate status,” Meg’s voice said, as she reappeared with a drink in her hand. “I mean, look at the two of them. So happy.”

Meg didn’t bother keeping her voice down, and people were turning to look at the new soulmates. Dean could feel his face heating up.

“Yeah, I heard,” Jo said, lowering her voice in an attempt to quiet Meg.

“Isn’t that right, Dean? Aren’t you happy?” Meg asked, her voice still carrying.

Dean pasted a smile on his face, aware of everyone watching. He reached across the table and took Cas’ hand in his own.

“Couldn’t be happier,” he said.

Meg rolled her eyes.

“You lovebirds have fun. I’m off to, what was it again, Dean? Ah, yes. Kick some puppies.”

Meg walked off, and Jo glared at her.

“Jealous bitch,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m going to go get something to eat. Call me, we can go swimming at the lake tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” Dean said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Jo walked into the diner, and Cas and Dean turned their interests back to each other. Dean realized he was still holding hands with Cas across the table, and suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. Still, he didn’t move his hand, not wanting to call suspicion upon themselves.

“You ready to go?” Cas asked, and Dean nodded. 

Dean broke off contact as they stood, and Cas came around the table to walk beside him on the way home. Hesitantly, Cas slipped his hand into Dean’s, cupping it in a familial way, and the two set off for their houses. They held hands in that same stiff manner until they were finally in front of their houses.

“Want to come in?” Cas asked, but Dean shook his head.

“No way, not until you fix that A/C, or it cools off around here. Why don’t you come to my place? We can watch a movie. Stay the night, if you want,” Dean said, attempting to keep the friendship the same.

“Let me talk to Mom, but I’d say she will be okay with it. I’ll be over after I take a shower.” Cas indicated his sweaty clothes, and headed off to his house.

Mary was sitting in an old armchair in the living room when Dean came in. She smiled at him and motioned for him to sit down. He did. They watched a few minutes of a documentary of the Civil War before Mary finally gave up waiting for Dean to talk.

“So, are you and Cas better?” she asked.

“I think we’re okay,” Dean answered honestly. “He’s coming over in a bit for a movie, and to stay the night if you say he can.”

“Of course he can! He’s your soulmate, Dean. And he’s always been welcome here, even before this happened. Are you two…together?” Mary asked.

For a brief moment, looking into his mother’s warm eyes, Dean considered telling the truth; that he and Cas were going to fake it, do the same thing they’d always done, and stay the same way they’d always been. Then his mind flashed to Naomi. She never had guests outside of Mary, who was unique in the fact that she didn’t care about social norms when it came to friends. Naomi was a social outcast, and so was Cas to an extent, all because her soulmate had denied her. If Dean denied Cas, or the other way around, Mary and Sam would be condemned to that life as well, and Dean wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Yeah, Mom. We’re together.”

Mary beamed, and clapped her hands together. 

“Perfect! We need a celebratory dinner tonight. How about we go out?” Mary asked, and Dean nodded.

“Sure, just let me call Cas,” he said, but as he picked up his cell phone, it rang in his hand.

“Hello?” he said.

“Dean, Mom wants you to come over for a moment. Can you?” Cas asked, sounding anxious.

“Yeah, sure, man. I’ll be right over.”

He gave Mary a quick explanation, then left to go the few feet to his best friend’s door. Naomi was waiting for him with a wide, genuine smile. It was rare that Dean saw it; Naomi had been a proud member of society before her falling from societal grace. From the moment she had been disgraced, she had started to fade, beginning with her looks, and Dean could mark her descent in the pictures on the walls. Whereas she had always been beautiful, she began to waste down to skin and bone, her features sallow and her eyes saddened. The last true thing to go had been her smile. Now, to see the real thing, it made her whole body glow.

“Come in, Dean, have a seat,” she said, and Dean took a place on the sofa beside Cas. “I am so, so pleased you two decided to work this out. Cas tells me you’re together now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said.

“Well, don’t be shy because of me! You two act like you barely know each other!” Naomi smiled again.

Moment of truth, Dean thought. How could he sell this? Surely, Naomi would see through anything he tried to pull. She had known him for years, seen him lie for years, because Dean Winchester had not been the most honest child. He had to think fast. He had to-

Suddenly, Cas was entwining his fingers through Dean’s, much more comfortable than he had on the way home less than twenty minutes ago, and Dean fought his instincts to pull away. Cas gave a small squeeze, which served to both calm Dean and pacify his mother.

“Adorable, both of you. Cas, go pack your bag. I’d like a word with Dean in private.”

Cas rose and went to his stuffy room, leaving Dean in a similar predicament to the morning’s.

“Dean, I just wanted to thank you,” Naomi said, taking Cas’ spot on the sofa.

“Why?” Dean asked, confused.

“For accepting him as your soulmate. You and I both know what happens if the bond is rejected. I know better than you, I’m relieved to say,” Naomi said sadly. “Cas is a special person, and I would say that even if he wasn’t my son. He has a way about him. Innocent and naïve, yes, but also strength unlike anything I have ever seen. The only thing he was missing in his life was you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Novak, but I don’t think one person needs anyone else to make them whole,” Dean said respectfully.

“No, I don’t think so either. Cas is completely his own, full person. What I meant was he needs someone like you. You’re kind, and caring. You understand him in ways that other people don’t. Dean, you talk about poetry and books with him, even though you don’t have much of an interest. The first time you met, you were protecting him. He needs someone like you, with your bravery, and honestly, you need someone like him.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Oh, Dean. You’re a special boy too. Headstrong, though. You act first, then think. Cas is the opposite. That’s what soulmates are. It isn’t about completing yourself. You’re already complete. The point of a soulmate is to find another soul that complements your own, making you into a better being. You two have been doing that to each other since the day you met.”

“I…I guess we have,” Dean admitted.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes. There’s only one thing I have to ask of you, Dean, and it’s important.”

“Sure, Mrs. Novak, anything.”

“Never hurt my son. He’s had that done to him enough, unfairly, I might add. He carries a burden of guilt and grief he shouldn’t have to. He’s got a new chance with you. Please, Dean,” she said, her voice dropping as Cas came down the stairs.

Dean met her pleading look, so full of the worry he often saw in his own mother’s eyes when it came to Sam and Dean.

“I’ll never hurt him. I swear.”

“Everything okay?” Cas asked, a bounce in his step that Dean was unused to seeing.

“Yes, sweetheart, everything is fine. You two enjoy your first date together,” Naomi said.

“Mom. It’s not a date. Dean and I have always done this,” Cas said, and Naomi wrapped him a quick hug.

“Yes, but you have never been together as a couple before, right?” Naomi said, releasing Cas as he and Dean made their way to the door.

“That’s right,” Cas said quietly, and he left the house, the door closing quietly behind them.

“One mom down, one to go?” Dean suggested, and he and Cas walked into the Winchester home.

“Hello, Cas, dear,” Mary said, feet propped up on the table and eyes moving from the screen to the boys. “Have you had a good birthday?”

“Yes, thank you,” Cas said, and he and Dean made their way to Dean’s room without further interruption, thankfully.

Dean switched on Mario Kart, and for a few blissful moments, it was as though nothing had changed between them. They were just best friends, not soulmates, playing a stupid game in Dean’s room together. Like old times. 

“I think it’s going fairly well,” Cas said, lobbing banana peels at Dean.

“Yeah, we just have to get used to the mushy crap,” Dean said, maneuvering around the peels like a pro.

“It’s not so bad,” Cas said, a smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t seen you holding hands with anyone since you and Lisa Braeden broke up.”

“I liked Lisa, but she just wasn’t right for me, you know? I knew it when we were dating, even if we still had two years before our soulmate day. She just never felt like she fit. Not that she wasn’t hot as hell, because damn, that was a good lookin’ girl. You know she woke up at Michael’s house last month?”

“I’d heard. Are you okay with that?” Cas asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I told you, she was hot and everything, but we didn’t connect together. Well, not in the soulmate way, anyway,” Dean said, winking.

Cas simply rolled his eyes, and launched a red shell directly at Dean, knocking him over and letting Cas breeze across the finish line in first place easily.

“You sneaky bastard,” Dean said, and Cas smiled, watching Toad do his victory lap. “Why are you always Toad?”

“People underestimate smaller creatures. I can use that to my advantage.”

The boys played for a few hours before Dean heard Sam come home. Sam came into the bedroom moments later, red faced from the walk home in the heat. Dean grinned at him.

“Man, look at that face. You’ve got it bad for Jess, huh?” Dean asked.

“Shut up, Dean. And dude, you stink. Mom said to take a shower before we go have dinner.”

“But I’m owning Cas right now!” Dean said, swerving into Cas to knock him into the grass.

“Hand it over. I’ll play while you get ready,” Sam said, and Dean reluctantly paused the game to hand off the controller.

“Fine. Don’t lose.”

“Just go shower,” Sam said, taking a seat in the floor beside Cas as Dean left the room, clothes in hand.

“So, soulmates,” Sam said, and Cas nodded. “We all should have seen that coming.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Cas mumbled. “But why should we? Two boys can be best friends without a relationship forming.”

“They can,” Sam agreed. “But you and Dean have something deeper there. I can see it in the way you look at each other. It’s like you're two halves of the same whole, you know?”

“I think your brother would call this a chick flick moment and smack you,” Cas said, and Sam laughed.

“Yeah, you’re right. Cas, I know you and Dean better than you think. I know neither of you would fall into a relationship this fast. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve got both our moms fooled,” Sam said, and Cas decided to ignore the comment. “I’m not ratting on you, but don’t fake it around me for my sake. I don’t care about that stuff. Just please, all I ask is that you give each other a chance to see what everyone else has seen all along.”

“I don’t think there is anything to see, Sam,” Cas said, and Sam sighed.

“You have never had a relationship, Cas. Like, ever, even though Meg and Anna both tried so hard last year. Maybe you haven’t been looking at the right people.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Dean has had several relationships,” Cas pointed out.

“He has, and he’ll be the first to admit that none of them felt right. Have you ever wondered why?” Sam asked, and Cas was momentarily quieted by the concept.

His distraction gave Sam enough time to hit him with a blue shell and slide into first place.

“Hot damn, Sammy, you pulled it off!” Dean said, coming back into the room.

“Quick shower,” Sam pointed out, and Dean laughed.

“Yeah, don’t tell Mom, but I just stuck my head in to get my hair wet. I’ll take a better shower tonight. It’s too hot right now.”

“Dean!” Mary yelled from downstairs. “Phone call!”

Dean looked puzzled and left the room while Sam and Cas continued to play. A few moments later, Dean came bounding back into the room, a grin plastered to his face, his excitement about to boil over.

“Who was it?” Cas asked, pausing the game.

“Bobby! He says he wants to hire me on as a mechanic!” Dean said excitedly.

“That’s great!” Cas said.

Dean had wanted to work at Singer’s Auto Shop for years, but Bobby kept holding off, saying he had to graduate high school first. Dean loved cars, and the fact that Bobby was hiring him on as a mechanic instead of an assistant spoke volumes about Dean’s talents.

“Come on, let’s go tell Mom!” Dean said, and he grabbed Cas by the hand without even thinking.

Cas caught a smile on Sam’s face as he let Dean pull him up and out of the room, Sam following behind.

“Mom! Guess who that was on the phone?” Dean said animatedly as they came into the living room.

“I don’t know, sweetie, who?” she answered.

“Bobby! He’s hiring me as a mechanic! I start next week!”

“Dean, that is wonderful! Oh, now we have two things to celebrate tonight. Let me get my shoes on and my keys, and Sam, go change out of that sweaty shirt. What do you feel like for dinner?” Mary asked, and Sam left the room to find a cleaner shirt.

“Not pizza or burgers,” Dean said, and Mary agreed.

“How about the Korean place in Lincoln? It’s a bit of a drive, but worth it. I’ll drive Sam, and you and Cas can take the Impala.”

“Why don’t we all ride together?” Dean asked.

“Sweetie, it’s Cas’ soulmate day. You two deserve time alone.”

Dean wasn’t going to argue with the chance to drive his Baby. Within minutes, he and Cas were on the road, following Mary and Sam on the thirty minute drive to Lincoln. Dean rolled their windows down and blasted classic rock so loudly that Cas thought he could feel his fillings rattle.

Occasionally, Dean would look over at grin at Cas, his features relaxed, and Cas could feel the tension of the day draining away. Maybe everything would work out after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the sweet Korean lady in this chapter off my Granny. In fact, the name of the restaurant is the Korean word for grandmother.

Dinner at the Korean place, called Halmeoni’s, was a loud affair. Mary was bursting with pride at both the soulmating of Dean and Cas, and Dean’s promise of a job at a place he loved. Her joy was infectious. Dean and Cas both found themselves laughing and grinning like the soulmate day had never even happened. 

“That everything you need?” a kind, old Korean woman said, and Mary nodded.

“Yes, just the check, please,” she said, and the woman scurried off to get it.

“Thank you for taking us out, Mrs. Winchester,” Cas said.

“It’s the least I could do. You’re the one who has to put up with Dean now,” Mary replied.

“Yeah, think you can handle me?” Dean asked, and Cas tilted his head.

“I’ve been doing it since we were seven. You were quite the handful,” Cas answered.

“No one can deny that,” Mary laughed, and the old woman returned with their check.

“You two boy,” she said, squinting at them. “You soulmate now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cas said to her.

“I could tell. The way the blue eye one look at green eye one. He smiling on inside,” she said, and Cas blushed. “And you. You harder to figure out, but you still look at blue eye boy like he hung moon. Good soulmates.”

“Th-thank you,” Dean stuttered out, and the old woman smiled.

“You’re welcome. When soulmate spell began, it was for mates like you two boy. Good luck.”

She hobbled off with the money Mary had given her to pay the bill, as well as her tip, and the boys and Mary stood to leave. Sam stretched his long legs out, already standing taller than Mary at his young age. 

“Are you boys coming straight home?” Mary asked when they began to walk to their cars.

“I need to get some gas, but we’ll be home after that,” Dean answered.

Mary said it was fine, and everyone loaded into their cars to go home. Mary and Sam took a left, while Cas and Dean hung a right to go to a local gas station on the next street. Even at barely past seven thirty, it was lit up with neon signs advertising Slush Kats and cheaper gas (“No Ethanol!”) than the competitors.

“What’s a slush cat?” Cas asked, eying the sign as they pulled into a pump station.

“It’s an icy. You know, like we used to get at the pool when we were kids? Back before they shut it down in, oh, what was it…2009?”

“I miss those drinks. And that pool. Now we have to go swim at the lake with God knows what in the water,” Cas curled his nose.

“Dude, that lake has to be cleaner than the pool ever was. I’ll be right back, I forgot you have to prepay in Lincoln.”

Dean got out of the car and walked into the gas station. Cas looked out his window, feeling the summer breeze, and closed his eyes. This was relaxing. This was what his birthday should have been from the moment he woke up. He felt a pang of guilt at lying to his mother, but tried to convince himself it was for the best. After all, she would understand the reasoning. And if society ever changed, accepted soulmates who chose to not have a relationship, well, he could tell her then. 

“Take this,” Dean’s voice said suddenly through his open window, and Cas jerked his eyes open.

Dean was holding two plastic cups with a cartoon cat dressed in ski gear. He beamed with pride, and Cas took the drinks from him to set in the cup holders. Dean pumped his gas quickly, then climbed back in the car.

“Blue raspberry for me, pina colada for you, just like old times!” Dean said, unceremoniously pulling the wrapper off his straw and plunging it into the ice and syrup mixture.

Cas followed suit and took a large drink of his own icy. Coconut and pineapple flavors flooded his mouth, and it transported him back to easy summer days spent by the pool, slathering on sunscreen yet always managing to burn his shoulders and nose. 

_“Here,” Cas said, pushing the sunscreen toward Dean._

_“I don’t need that stuff,” Dean said._

_“You’re pale and freckly. Your risk of skin cancer is much higher than mine, and even I burn. Wear it.”_

_“Jesus, Cas, if I put some on, will you shut up about it?” Dean rolled his eyes._

_“That depends. Will you promise to wear it every time we go swimming?” Cas asked._

_“Yes! God, just hand it over.”_

“Thanks for the drink, Dean,” Cas said.

“Hey, you’re the birthday boy. Besides, we don’t get these anymore, so why not take it when we can?” Dean said, and he moved the car into drive to head back home.

The evening was cooling off, and Cas actually rolled his window up some on the way home. He blamed the fact that he was used to being hot now, thanks to his dysfunctional air conditioner. Dean noticed the chill bumps on Cas’ arm and rolled his own window up, opting to turn the air on low and face all the vents on himself.

They pulled into the driveway not long after Mary and Sam had, and went inside to begin another movie fest. Mary stopped them only long enough to tell Dean she knew about his shower trick, and expected him washed up before bedtime. The boys passed by Sam’s room, where they saw Sam chatting on the phone to Jess. Dean made kissy faces at him, and Sam simply scowled and closed the door.

“He actually really likes this girl,” Dean said, once they were back in his room and starting on Finding Nemo. 

“Maybe he’ll wake up in her house when he turns eighteen. Or is she older than him?” Cas asked.

“I think she’s older by a few months. Man, I hope it’s her. I like Jess.”

Dean and Cas settled back against the wall, feet slung over the other side of the bed and sitting shoulder to shoulder, as always. They watched the movie, and had started on Brave (which Cas insisted Dean would love, and Dean was adamant that he wouldn’t) before both boys began to get tired. They slouched against the wall at first, then slowly maneuvered into the same position they had been in the night before. It felt familiar, comfortable. Within minutes, both boys had fallen asleep.

Mary peeked her head in the door a little later to check on them before going to bed herself. She noted Dean hadn’t taken a shower, considering he was still in his dinner clothes, and rolled her eyes in frustration. Her son was a born sweet talker; he’d never intended to take a shower at all, and she knew it. 

The floor creaked slightly under her, and Dean moved around, still fast asleep. Mary watched as Dean mumbled nonsense into his pillow, and gently tucked his arm around Cas’ waist. Cas frowned slightly in his sleep, then lay his own hand on top of Dean’s, before both their breathing patterns returned to being deep and calm.

Mary smiled to herself and tiptoed down the hall to her own room, closing the door before opening her closet to find some pajamas. 

“Oh, John,” she whispered into the air, as she often did when alone. “You’d be losing your mind right now, and we’d be having an argument about it. And I would give almost anything if it were actually happening to us.”

She settled into the bed alone, thinking back to her own soulmate day, and wishing she had it all to do over again, before slowly falling asleep.

When Dean awoke the next morning, his brain felt fuzzy, but he was aware enough to realize that he had somehow wrapped his arm around Cas while they slept. He jerked it away instantly, causing Cas to open his eyes as well.

“Everything okay?” Cas asked in a thick voice.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Just time to get up, that’s all,” Dean said, and he climbed out of the bed.

“Mm. Five more minutes?” Cas asked, dropping his head back down.

“Sure, five minutes. I gotta call Jo anyway.”

He glanced at his phone and saw that it was after nine. Jo, he knew, was up by eight every morning. He called her number, and Jo answered on the third ring.

“Winchester,” she said as a greeting.

“One of them, but the better looking one,” he replied. “We still on for meeting at the lake today?”

“Yeah, I thought we could make a day of it. Bonfire, the works,” she said.

“That sounds awesome. I’ll get the hotdogs, you bring the marshmallows?” 

“Is that even a question? I’ll meet you there around one.” Jo answered.

“See you then,” Dean said, and hung up.

Cas had fallen back asleep, and Dean realized he was tired as well. He didn’t dare climb back in the bed, not wanting a repeat of the night before. Instead, he sat on the corner of the bed and gently shook Cas’ leg.

“Wake up, man. Jo wants to meet at the lake at one, and I need to go get hotdogs. We’ll take the car. Cas, wake up,” he said again, and Cas finally groaned and rolled over.

“I’m up.”

“Awesome. I’m gonna take a quick shower so mom doesn’t lose it when I go downstairs.”

Dean left the room, and Cas promptly rolled back over and closed his eyes. He figured he had a good ten minutes to go back to sleep before Dean would be back.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam said at the door, and Cas sighed, sitting up.

“Come in,” he said, and Sam came into the room.

“I just wanted to check on you and make sure everything is okay,” Sam said, and any irritation Cas had at the younger boy dissipated. 

“Thank you, Sam. I feel fine. Your brother and I are meeting Jo this afternoon at the lake. Do you want to go? Maybe you could bring Jess,” Cas asked kindly.

“Thanks, but we’re going to the park today. Maybe we can go swimming with you next time. You can wear my swim trunks though if you want. They should fit.”

Sam disappeared to his room and brought back a pair of garish yellow swim trunks for Cas to try on. Cas could tell simply by looking that they would probably fit. He and Sam were much closer in size than they should be, given their age difference, but Sam was a large kid.

Sam left Cas to get dressed, and Cas had just stepped into the trunks when the door opened and Dan walked in, drying his hair with a towel and wearing his own swim trunks and t-shirt.

“Damn, wearing Sammy’s clothes? Welcome to the family, Cas,” Dean joked. “I got to say, you pull off the baby-shit yellow color much better than he does.”

“Funny, since they used to be yours,” Cas said.

“I’m hilarious. And Mom picked those out, thanks. Come on, by the time we get the stuff from the store and drive to the lake, it’ll be time to meet Jo.”

They thundered downstairs and met Mary on the way down.

“Hey Mom! We’re going to the lake with Jo today. We won’t be back until late, if that’s okay,” Dean said.

“Not too late. I go to bed around eleven, and I expect you back by then. Did Naomi say Cas could go?” Mary asked.

“Yes, she said so yesterday. I told her I’d be home by ten thirty,” Cas answered.

“Alright then. I think I’ll take her some dinner tonight anyway, so if you’re lying to me, you’re in serious trouble,” Mary teased.

“Mom, would we lie?” Dean asked.

“Any chance you could get. Go on, have fun. Say hello to Jo for me.”

Dean and Cas climbed into the Impala and made a fast trip to the store.

“Castiel!” Mr. Patterson exclaimed when Dean and Cas came up to the checkout. “How was the soulmate day? Was she everything you expected?”

“She, er,” Cas stuttered, a blush crossing his face.

“It’s kind of hard to explain, Mr. Patterson,” Dean jumped in.

“Boys, I’ve been around a long time. Soulmates are as easy to explain as anything. Your soul found its match. Simple,” Mr. Patterson said.

“Not this time,” Dean said with a small laugh. “It’s me.”

“Is it, now?” Mr. Patterson mused. “I suppose that makes sense. I trust everything went well?”

Mr. Patterson observed the boys over his glasses, and they paid him for the hotdogs and drinks. Dean knew Mr. Patterson was from a different time; he would certainly expect them accept their soulmate status without question.

Cas instantly slid his hand into Dean’s as he had the day before. This time, Dean didn’t feel as much of an urge to pull away. Instead, he gave it a small squeeze, really selling the soulmate concept.

“Everything is awesome,” Dean said, and Mr. Patterson nodded approvingly at them.

“Good, good,” Mr. Patterson said with a smile, and the boys left the store, still holding hands.

They kept up the act until they were in the car, before letting go. Dean cast a reassuring look at Cas.

“We can do this,” he said, and Cas nodded.

“I know we can.”

The trip to the lake was peaceful, the car filled with the sounds of Dean’s music, and Cas fell asleep halfway into the trip. He was jostled awake when Dean drove across the gravel in the parking lot.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Dean said.

Cas blinked in the bright afternoon sun. He could see Jo and Anna down on the beach already, laying on bright white towels, a cooler beside them. He and Dean got out of the car and made their way down to the beach with them.

“Hello, ladies!” Dean said, and he and Cas dropped their beach stuff on the ground next to him.

“Hey Dean, Cas,” Anna said, shielding her eyes and grinning up at them.

“Did you bring your stuff?” Jo asked as a greeting.

“Sure did, but I’m going to need some help to get it down here,” Dean answered, prodding Jo with his foot.

She faked a dramatic sigh and sat up. 

“Fine, let’s get it. Be right back,” she said to Anna and Cas.

Jo and Dean walked back up to the car.

“Things getting any better?” Jo asked.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s just awkward, you know?” Dean replied.

“Not really, no. I think I’d be freaking thrilled to wake up to my best friend on soulmate day.”

“So, you and Anna…?” Dean questioned.

“ _No_! I’m just saying, Anna is great. There are much worse people to be bonded to than your best friend. You could always have gotten Meg,” Jo said.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Dean said, and they heaved the containers of drinks out of the trunk, each grabbing a pack of hotdogs as well.

“But you and Cas, you’re together now?” Jo asked, and Dean knew he didn’t have a choice in his answer.

“Of course we are. We’re bonded soulmates. It’s just taking some time to get used to the change, that’s all.”

“Right…you know, Dean, I’ve had a crush on you since we were kids. I always held out hope it would be you and me, but I think deep down I always knew it would be you and Cas. You just fit.”

“You think so?” Dean asked, tossing her a teasing smile to avoid the implications of the statement.

“I know it. Everyone always has but you two,” Jo said, as they walked down the path.

“Seriously, Jo, Cas and I never thought of each other as more than best friends-,” Dean began, but his breath caught quite suddenly when he noticed Cas had shed his shirt and was speaking to Anna with his hands resting on his hips.

He looked happy, relaxed. Dean was surprised at just how tan he was, considering he never left his room. And since when did Cas have such a muscular back? He shook the unwanted thoughts from his mind. Surely it was just residual thinking from the conversation he and Jo had been having.

Dean placed the drinks into the cooler when he reached it, and threw in the hotdogs as well.

“I’ve been looking forward to swimming all day,” Jo said, kicking her shoes off and heading for the water’s edge, Anna close behind.

“Hey, Cas, where’s the sunscreen?” Dean asked.

“In my bag, but it’s kind of cloudy today,” Cas replied, looking at the sky.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean said. “You can burn even on cloudy days. Besides, I promised this nerdy kid once that I’d never go swimming without wearing sunscreen ever again.”

Cas smiled. Dean grinned and peeled off his shirt while Cas dug through his bag for his sunscreen. He straightened up and Dean turned his back to him.

“I can’t really reach,” Dean said awkwardly, and Cas agreed.

“No, I guess not,” Cas said, aware that Anna and Jo were watching their interaction from the water. “Here, I’ll do it.”

Cas squirted some of the liquid into his hand and rubbed it onto Dean’s freckled back. He worked at the shoulders first, where Dean tended to burn faster, then added some more to his hands and applied it to his lower back.

“Do you need some too?” Dean asked shyly.

“No, I can reach on my own. I already did it,” Cas said.

“Yeah, you’re a limber freak of nature. I forget sometimes,” Dean chuckled.

Cas finished putting the lotion on Dean’s back. And if his hand stayed there a moment too long, the pressure of his fingertips pressed into the muscles of Dean’s back, well, it was only because they had an audience.


	5. Chapter 5

They alternated swimming until their muscles ached and sprawling out on the beach until the heat became too much until well into the evening. Finally, when the sun was beginning to set, everyone put on some dry clothes and Dean and Anna set about building the bonfire.

The fire was large, fueled by dead and dried pieces of wood scattered about the lakeshore, and burned bright and hot in the darkness. Jo and Anna immediately broke into the marshmallows, but Dean and Cas opted for something more substantial to eat. They skewered hotdogs onto roasting sticks, and turned them slowly in the fire.

“Damn!” Jo said, “I left the chocolate in the car. I bet it’s melted.”

“Stick it in the cooler for a minute,” Anna said, and Jo rose to get it. “I’ll come with you. I really need to pee.”

Jo rolled her eyes at her friend’s bluntness, and both of them walked off toward Jo’s car.

Dean and Cas ate their hotdogs by the crackling fire.

“I swear, your nose gets burned every time we go swimming,” Dean said to Cas.

“You should see your shoulders. That’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

“Maybe a little,” Dean admitted, and he noticed Anna and Jo watching them from the top of the hill, clearly talking about them. “Aw, hell. Jo and Anna are analyzing our every move.”

“What do you mean?” Cas asked, glancing up the hill.

“I mean, this was probably their plan from the time Jo invited us here. Get us alone, and watch what happens. I wouldn’t put it past Jo.”

Cas frowned.

“I don’t think they’re doing anything but talking. Maybe you’re just nervous,” Cas said.

“Maybe. But don’t want to risk it,” Dean said, and this time, he was the one who took Cas by the hand.

Cas felt a slight flutter in his stomach. This was the first time Dean had reached out for his hand since they had been soulmated. Dean laced his fingers through Cas’, managing to eat his hotdog one handed, and Cas gave his hand a small squeeze. Dean circled his thumb over Cas’ hand in tiny circles, far too small a movement to be noticed by Anna and Jo.

Dean smiled at Cas, and Cas grinned back. Anna and Jo came back to the fireside, but neither Dean nor Cas broke apart the contact. Jo winked at Dean from across the fire, throwing the chocolate into the cooler and putting a marshmallow onto her stick. 

Just then, Dean’s phone began to ring in his pocket. He took his hand away from Cas to dig in his pocket to look at the ID and answer.

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” he said.

“Dean, I need you and Cas to come home right now,” Mary said.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, sitting up straighter.

“I’d rather tell you in person. Sam is fine,” Mary said, sensing Dean’s biggest concern. “But you need to come home right now. Don’t speed, and be careful.”

“Yeah, sure. We’ll be home in an hour. See you then.”

“Okay, good. And Dean? I love you,” Mary said, and Dean’s heart dropped.

“Love you too, Mom. Be home soon.”

Dean hung up the phone and stood up immediately.

“Sorry, girls. Cas and I have to go,” Dean said, and Cas stood too.

“That’s fine. Leave the hotdogs though,” Jo joked.

Dean and Cas packed up their beach things as fast as possible, and made it back to the car to pack them away. They slipped into the car, and Dean backed out of his parking place to head home, giving Cas a brief explanation.

“Dean, relax,” Cas said, noting Dean’s tense expression.

“Something is wrong, Cas. I could hear it in Mom’s voice. She said Sam is fine, but what if someone picked up on us faking this?” Dean said. 

“It’s been two days. I doubt anyone would be suspicious of us.”

“It could be anything,” Dean said, anxious, his hand resting on the arm rest shaking slightly.

“Yes, it could,” Cas said. “Which means that it is pointless to worry. We’ll be home soon.”

Not another word was spoken on the way home, other than Cas occasionally reminding Dean to slow down. Dean pulled into the driveway and was instantly relieved to see both his and Cas’ houses still standing, and no emergency vehicles parked anywhere. Surprisingly, it made him feel worse. If it wasn’t some kind of emergency, what could it be?

The boys got out of the Impala quickly and made their way inside the lit house. Mary was sitting on the couch in the living room, Sam by her side. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He knew his mother wouldn’t lie to him, but he still felt better being able to see his brother with his own eyes. Mary looked up and saw the boys, her face stained with tears.

“Sammy, baby, go up to your room for a little bit,” she said, and Sammy nodded, standing and leaving the room, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone.

Mary stood and walked slowly toward the boys, her eyes saddened.

“I’m-I’m so sorry,” she said, her arms opening wide.

Dean had half lifted his arms before he realized that Mary wasn’t walking to him. Instead, she passed him by and wrapped her arms tightly around Cas, who hugged her back, looking bewildered.

“Sit down, boys,” she said, when she finally released Cas.

Dean and Cas sat on the sofa, not sure if they were in trouble, or really what was going on at all. Mary took a long, deep breath before sitting on the coffee table at their feet. She leaned in, steeling herself.

“Cas, honey, it’s your mom,” she said, and a look of utter terror crossed Cas’ face. “She-she passed away, sweetheart.”

The air seemed to rush out of the room.

“She…what happened?” Cas managed to get out, eyes wide and fearful.

“I tried to take her some dinner around six, and she didn’t come to the door. It worried me, and I kept trying to call her,” Mary said, tears streaming down her face again. “When she didn’t answer by nine, I called the police. They-they found her in the bedroom. She had a heart attack, they think sometime early this morning. I’m so sorry.”

Cas clenched his eyes shut, tears bubbling over the lids and cascading down his sunburned cheeks. He dropped his head into his hands. Dean sat in complete shock. Naomi had been fine. How could she just be gone?

Cas took a steadying breath. When he raised up, it was with a look so shattered and fragile that Dean could feel his own heart break.

“What do I do now?” Cas asked quietly.

“We need to finalize plans, sweetie, but we can do that tomorrow. You and I can go to the funeral home in the morning.”

“I’m coming too,” Dean said.

“Please,” Cas said in a broken voice.

“You two should go to bed. It’s been a long day,” Mary said.

“I can stay here?” Cas asked, and Mary looked surprised.

“Of course you can, Cas. You stay here as long as you want. I’m going to bed, but if you need anything, you wake me up.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Winchester.”

Mary hugged him again tightly and headed up the stairs to her room. Cas sat back against the sofa, still white faced and staring. He dropped his head back down again, and curled his legs up on the couch underneath him, as though attempting to make himself as small as possible. Then, in a voice so quiet that it could barely be heard, he spoke a single word.

“Dean.”

Dean leaned into him and threw his arms around the other boy, holding him close. Cas’ body shook with sobs, and he opened his arms to hold onto Dean as best as he could. Dean tucked the other boy’s head under his chin, cradling him in a way as loving as a mother would a child. He rubbed at Cas’ back, tears falling down his own face and into the other boy’s dark hair. 

“It’s okay, Cas. We’re going to get through this just fine, you’ll see. You want to go to my room?” Dean said, and Cas gave an imperceptible nod against his shoulder. “Okay, up you get then. You’re too big to carry.”

Cas tried to laugh but it came out like a broken cry. Dean helped him up the stairs and onto the bed, where Cas pulled him down with him. He was sobbing still, but it was a cry of so much sorrow and pain that the tears wouldn’t even come anymore. 

“I lied to her,” he whispered, and Dean lay his head down on the pillow next to him.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I lied, Dean. I told her we were together. The very last thing I ever said to my mother was a lie.”

Cas closed his eyes tightly and turned his face into the pillow.

“We had no choice, you know that. It’s not your fault,” Dean said.

“And now what? I don’t have a job! Where will I live? I can’t sell that house, it’s my home. I’ve never lived alone before. I don’t even know what to do about bills! I’m not ready for this! I can’t do it on my own!”

“Cas. Look at me,” Dean said, and Cas opened his eyes. “I told you before, you’ve got me. You will never, ever be alone.”

The thought seemed to calm Cas slightly.

“I start work at Bobby’s next week,” Dean continued. “Until then, you stay here with us. Then we move into your house together. It’s kind of expected of us, honestly. See? Normal, regular life. Everything will be fine. We can do this together.”

“I’ll get a job too,” Cas said, leaning back and rubbing his eyes roughly. “The carpenter’s place in town is hiring.”

“If that’s what you want, then sure. Don’t feel like you have to for my sake.”

“Dean…thank you,” Cas said, and he reached out to take Dean’s hand.

“That’s what we’ve always done, isn’t it?” Dean asked, holding his hand tightly. “You and me. Now go to sleep, Cas. I’m not going anywhere.”

It took a long time for Cas to fall asleep, and Dean stayed awake with him the entire time, even though he was exhausted. Dean held his hand, rubbing those circles with his thumb again. Finally, Cas slipped into an uneasy sleep, but Dean still didn’t move. He closed his eyes, still holding tight to Cas’ hand.

Cas slept fitfully, his head tossing occasionally, legs twitching and face frowning. Each small movement woke Dean up, and he would squeeze his hand to make sure Cas knew he was there. Cas would calm down immediately, and Dean would fall back asleep. Dawn came far too early the next morning, and Dean gave up on sleep and rolled out of the bed a few hours later, finally letting go of Cas’ hand, to go downstairs and make some breakfast. Mary was awake already, sitting at the table with a cup of untouched coffee in front of her.

“Morning, Mom,” Dean said, startling her out of her daydreams.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Mary said. “Want some coffee?”

“Please,” Dean said, and Mary set about to making it, looking for some distraction.

“How’s Cas?” she asked softly.

“Sleeping, if you can call it that. He’s awful, Mom,” Dean said.

“What would you expect?” Mary asked.

“He’s scared, I can tell. He asked me what he was going to do, how he was going to live alone.”

“And what did you tell him?” Mary asked.

“That he’ll never be alone.”

“That’s my boy.”

“We’re going to stay here until I get my job, if that’s okay. Then we’ll move into his house,” Dean said.

“You’re welcome to stay here forever, you know that. But I’m happy to see you and Cas making such responsible decisions.”

“You know me, Mom. Responsibility is my middle name.”

Mary managed a small laugh.

“Go and get Cas up. We really need to go. Sam said he’s going to hang around with Jess today. I’d rather him not come along for this.”

Dean climbed the stairs and went in to find Cas awake and dressed, staring out the window in his room.

“Morning,” Dean said, and Cas looked at him tiredly.

“Good morning,” Cas answered. 

“Mom said we need to go,” Dean said softly, and Cas nodded.

“I’m ready.”

Cas stared out the window while Dean got ready to go, and they walked downstairs together, meeting Mary in the living room. Soon, silently, all three were on their way to the funeral home in town. Mary asked if Cas was hungry, but he only managed a weak head shake to tell her no. Too soon, they were at the funeral home and meeting with the funeral director.

“Hello, I’m Steven Ellis, and let me say how sorry I am for your loss,” he said, and Dean resisted rolling his eyes with difficulty; he must be required to say that to every person, and Dean doubted he meant it.

“Thank you,” Cas said sincerely.

“Now, do you know if your mother wanted to be cremated or buried?” Steven asked.

“Buried. She bought a plot out in Brooke Fields years ago,” Cas said.

“Alright, please follow me,” Steven said, leading the way into a room filled with coffins, their lids open to reveal empty contents. “You need to pick one out. Take your time.”

Once he left, Cas cast a terrified look at Mary.

“Look at these prices! How am I going to pay for this?” he asked.

“Naomi had life insurance, sweetie. You pick out anything you want. I’m going to go get some basic things planned with Steven, if that’s okay. That way you won’t have to,” Mary said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Winchester.”

Mary patted Cas on the shoulder and left the room. Cas began to look at the caskets, feeling the inside of the most satiny ones. They ranged from pale pine to dark ebony, shiny and matte, and most heartbreakingly, from tiny to large.

“This is senseless,” Cas said, wide eyes on Dean. “She won’t be able to feel the satin, or the pillow. Or read the message embroidered on the inside. What is the point?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“I can’t tell you, man. This is for your Mom, but it’s also for you. What do you think she’d want?” Dean answered.

“Me to be happy,” Cas said without thinking, and continued to look at the caskets.

He crossed by one, then came back to it. It was light colored and glossy, the satin inside a pale purple. Inscribed on the inside of the coffin was the word Mother. 

“This one,” Cas said, noting its display number. “It’s perfect.”

“Let’s let him know,” Dean said, and he and Cas walked back to the business office.

“Did you find something?” Steven asked, and Cas nodded.

“Yes, sir. I liked number seven.”

“Seven, huh? Gorgeous, it’s made of willow,” Steven said.

A pile of paperwork and an hour later, Mary and the boys walked out of the funeral home. Cas’ mother was to be buried at Brooke Fields the next afternoon, after a private wake for the family at the funeral home. Cas needed to be there an hour early to bring her favorite dress. 

Mary thought the boys would be starving, so she stopped and bought them a burger on the way home. Once in the door, she disappeared into the kitchen, and the boys took their burgers to Dean’s room. They sat and ate for a few moments.

“You want to watch a movie?” Dean asked.

“Not right now,” Cas said.

“How about Mario Kart then?” Dean asked.

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” Cas said, and Dean sat down his burger.

“You’re not fine, Cas. I’ve known you for years, and this is as far from fine as I have ever seen you. I understand, I really do. But I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me,” Dean said.

“I didn’t know it was possible to hurt this much,” Cas said quietly after a moment.

“I’m sorry that it is. Look, it will just take some time. This is something you never get over completely. It’s not like you’re going to wake up one day and be fine with losing your mom. The thing is, every day it gets a little easier, until finally, instead of a rock on your shoulder, you’ve just got a feather. You know?”

At this, Cas smiled his first genuine smile since the day before.

“I know that I told you that exact thing when John died, nearly word for word,” Cas said.

“And it made me feel a hell of a lot better. Now it’s your turn. I’m here, Cas, and I’m not going anywhere. So talk to me whenever you want to.”

“Thank you, Dean. I will,” Cas answered.

“Awesome. What do you want to do?” Dean asked.

“I want to watch bad nineties movies,” Cas said.

“That’s my boy. Start thinking of some. We’ve got all night,” Dean said, pulling up Netflix on his laptop before finishing his burger.

Dean and Cas passed the rest of the day holed up in Dean’s room with horrible nineties movies. They came down only for dinner, a falsely happy event, and retreated again. Later, Cas slipped out to take a fast shower, then came back in to finish Rush Hour. Late that night, while watching one of the Lethal Weapon movies, Cas started to get drowsy, and lay down on the bed.

“I’m sleepy,” he announced.

“Then go to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Dean asked.

“Because it means tomorrow will get here, and I’m not ready to say goodbye,” Cas answered.

Dean lay down next to him on the soft bed.

“I know, man. But I’ll be there with you the whole time. I swear,” Dean said.

Cas’ eyes were drooping, but he was fighting it for all he was worth.

“I can’t sleep. This is the last day I’ll ever have before my mom’s funeral. From now on, my life will be measured by being after this one event. Before my mom’s funeral, and after.”

“Go to sleep, Cas, I’m here,” Dean tried again.

“Once she’s buried, she’s gone forever,” Cas continued on, unable to stop now that he’d started. “She’s just going to be gone, and I don’t have a dad. I’m an orphan.”

Dean hesitated, and lifted his arm. He gently placed it around Cas, pulling him closer and laying his head onto Cas’ shoulder. He felt Cas begin to relax in his arms.

“It’s going to be hard,” he said, lightly stroking Cas’ hair with his hand. “I wish I could take the pain away, buddy, I really do. But she isn’t gone completely. You’ll still remember her, and all the good times you had together. That last moment with her, that doesn’t define your whole relationship. She loved you, and she knew you loved her. That’s the important thing. So go to sleep, Cas. I swear, you won’t have to do this alone, just like I didn’t have to do it alone with Dad. I’ll be there for every single second. I’m not going anywhere. Got that? Cas?”

Dean raised his head up and looked at Cas, whose eyes were closed, and slowly drew back his arm. Cas raised his own hand and pulled Dean’s arm back across him.

“Leave it, please. It feels good,” Cas mumbled sleepily.

Dean left his arm across Cas’ waist, and dropped his head back onto his shoulder. He held Cas gently until he finally fell asleep, long breaths causing his chest to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Dean closed his own eyes in the darkened room, drowsy from the heat radiating off of Cas in his sleep. Soon Dean had drifted off as well, and both boys slept calmly, pressed against one another until morning.


	6. Chapter 6

Both Dean and Cas slept until Mary knocked on their door the next day at noon.

“Dean? Cas? You two need to get up and get ready to go. You need to be at the funeral home in an hour.”

“We’re getting up now,” Dean said, and Mary walked back downstairs.

Dean noticed his arm still around Cas and a small bit of drool on his friend’s shirt, but made no effort to move; he was far too comfortable.

“We need to get up,” he said to Cas, who groaned.

“Too early,” he mumbled.

“Dude,” Dean laughed when he saw the clock. “It’s officially the afternoon. Get up, we have to get dressed.”

Cas dragged himself out of the bed, and Dean followed him. 

“I have to go home to get dressed,” Cas realized. “I can get Mom’s dress while I’m there.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Dean asked, but Cas shook his head.

“No, I’ll be right back,” Cas said, and he threw on his shoes to walk next door.

Dean dug through his closet and found a pair of dark dress pants and a plain white button-up shirt. He slipped on a tie, realizing that he had no idea how to tie it. Mary knocked on his door.

“You look great, Dean,” she said.

“Thanks, Mom. Can you do this?” Dean asked, indicating the dark tie.

“Sure, sweetie. Let me show you how,” Mary said, and she moved to put her hands on the silk fabric. “Alright, cross it over like this. Then bring this piece over here, see? Now, tuck it in here…and pull. That’s all there is to it.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, and he straightened it. 

“You’re welcome,” Mary said, a twinkle in her eye. “I’m going to get ready. I’ll meet you and Cas at the funeral home in a little bit.”

Mary left the room, and Dean quickly combed his hair, memories of the last time he was at a funeral home still painful in his mind.

_“I don’t think I can do this, Cas,” Dean said quietly, sitting in the front row at the wake as the room filled up. “If it weren’t for Mom and Sammy, I’d get out of here now.”_

_“Running won’t make it less painful,” Cas murmured._

_“I don’t think it could make it worse,” Dean said, carefully avoiding looking at his father in the coffin. “If you live longer than me, make sure when I go that there’s no wake or anything. Dig a hole, dump me in, and go on with your life. What do I care, I’m dead.”_

_“Funerals aren’t for the dead, Dean,” Cas said. “They’re for the benefit of those left behind.”_

_The preacher took his place at the head of the room, and Dean felt his chest tighten. He wanted to run, wanted to get as far away from here as possible. The last thing he wanted was to listen to his Dad’s eulogy or see his lifeless body. A kid shouldn't lose his dad at ten. No, everything was painful, everything hurt, and he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t strong enough. He had to go, had to run-_

_Cas closed his hand around Dean’s wrist and gave a small squeeze, then leaned in close to whisper in his ear._

_“I’m here. We’ll do this together.”_

“Dean?” Cas asked, coming back into the room.

“I’m fine, just thinking,” Dean said, turning to meet him. “Wow, Cas. You look…you look good.”

Cas smiled sheepishly. He was wearing a button-up as well, but his was light blue. The rest of his clothes were similar to Dean’s, except his tie hung around his neck.

“You do as well. I can’t figure this thing out,” Cas said, pulling on the tie.

“Mom did mine, but she’s getting ready. I’ll do it,” Dean said, and he raised his hands to work on the tie. “Okay, let me think. This piece crosses here…then I take this piece? No, no this one. Right. And pull it through here…is that too loose?”

Dean looked up and realized how exceptionally close he was to Cas.

“Yes, just a little. Here,” Cas said, and he raised his hands to the silk, brushing over Dean’s. 

Cas held right above where Dean’s hands were, and adjusted the tie, smiling.

“Much better,” Cas said.

“Yeah. That-that’s a good color for you. That blue.”

“I actually prefer green,” Cas said quietly.

Dean and Cas were standing very close. Neither made any attempt to back away, their hands dropping to their sides. There seemed to be an electricity in the air, and Dean swallowed.

“Boys!” Mary called from the hall.

They each took a step backward, and took a deep breath, as though coming back to themselves. Dean felt like he had just been smacked in the face. What the hell had that been about? Mary bustled into the room.

“You need to get going,” Mary said, and her eyes landed on Cas. “Your hair, Cas. Come here.”

Mary picked the comb up off the dresser and quickly ran it through Cas’ hair, taming the unruly dark locks into place. She then sent them out the door with a quick goodbye and a promise to see them very soon. Cas grabbed Naomi’s dress off the porch as they left, and soon they were on their way to the funeral home.

Dean kept his music turned low, but he and Cas didn’t mention the odd exchange in the room. Dean blamed it on the high emotions of the day, and wrote it off as a freak occurrence. They pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home soon after, and Cas carefully grabbed the dress out of the backseat.

“Mr. Novak, Mr. Winchester. Happy to see you, of course, but it’s a sad day,” Steven said when the boys came inside, a look of false sincerity on his face. “I’ll take your mother’s dress to the back room. You two can wait in the lobby, and I will tell you when she is ready in the wake room.”

Cas handed over the simple pink dress, then he and Dean went to sit on one of the several ornate, but uncomfortable, chairs in the lobby. Cas’ hands were shaking.

“Wow, this place is ugly,” Dean joked. “I especially like the statue of the naked kid peeing into the fountain. Classy.”

Cas managed a small smile, and Dean kept up the running commentary.

“And a painting of a fairly drunk man riding a donkey. I wonder if that’s some kind of poetic thing? Like, a drunk man makes an ass out of himself? I don’t know. Hey, look at that chandelier. Man, I wonder if it fell if it would be like the movies and break. Unless it’s plastic. I bet it’s plastic, ‘cause that’s a lot cheaper.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“You talk too much when you’re nervous,” Cas said.

“Would you rather I be quiet?” Dean asked.

“Not in the least.”

Dean continued making observations, actually drawing a chuckle out of Cas when he compared a particularly odd looking door handle to a certain part of the male anatomy.

“You can’t even deny it! That’s exactly what it looks like. Except the guy must have been in some kind of terrible accident, because he only has one-,”

“Mr. Novak?” Steven said, coming back into the room, catching Dean and Cas looking far too happy to be at a funeral. “You may go to the wake room whenever you’re ready. I’ll be in my office if needed.”

Dean was struck with just how distant Steven appeared to be. He seemed to want nothing to do with Cas, especially since he was going to his office during the wake. Dean distinctly remembered the funeral director at his dad’s funeral being in the room the entire time, even going as far as to sit next to one grieving mourner with tissues.

Any trace of happiness disappeared off of Cas’ face when Steven walked away, and he cast a terrified look at Dean.

“It’s okay, Cas, I’ll be right there with you. Unless you’d rather me wait outside for a few minutes?” Dean asked.

“No, please. Come with me. I can’t do it alone,” Cas said, and he stood to make his way to the wake room.

Dean followed, but just outside the double wooden doors, Cas stopped. He took a deep breath, and clenched one fist tightly before relaxing it. He then straightened his back and pushed one of the doors open, holding it slightly to allow Dean in as well.

Once inside, Cas didn’t move any further into the room. At the front, in the absolutely silent room, the willow coffin lay in the beam of a soft light shining from the ceiling. Dean could see the very top of Naomi’s head resting on the pillow. He walked around until he could see Cas’ face, and noticed he had gone alarmingly pale.

“Cas? We can sit in the back here, or wait for Mom and Sammy,” Dean said.

Cas shook his head slightly, and steeled his jaw.

“No. No, this is something that I have to do, Dean.”

Dean nodded. He slipped his hand quietly in Cas’, and waited for him to make the first move toward his mother. It didn’t take long; Dean’s hand in his seemed to give Cas the strength he needed, and he finally took a step forward. Slowly, he and Dean came to the coffin’s side, and Cas was able to look at his mother.

She seemed peaceful, as though she was simply asleep. Cas raised his hand and smoothed her graying hair down and out of her face. Dean watched him, his hand still holding on tight.

“Hey, Mom,” Cas said quietly. “It’s too late now, but I need to tell you that I lied. I’m sorry. But if I had to do it again, I’d still lie. Dean and I aren’t together. We’re pretending, Mom. I couldn’t let you get shamed again by something that wasn’t your fault. So I tried to protect you. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Cas let go of Dean’s hand and reached into his pocket at the same time as Dean reached into his, and both paused to look at each other when they produced slips of paper.

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

“I wrote something for Mom. What’s _that_?” Cas asked back.

“I-I did too.”

“You never write,” Cas said, and he frowned slightly.

“Yeah, well, it felt like the occasion.”

“Can I read it?”

Dean hesitated. He didn’t write often, but when he did, it was heartfelt, and generally private. 

“Sure.”

He handed over his paper, and was surprised when Cas handed him his own.

“It’s only fair,” Cas said, and he and Dean took a few steps back to sit in the first row of chairs. “Let me read yours first.”

Cas unfolded the sheet of paper and began to read Dean’s messy scrawl.

_Dear Naomi,_

_My second mom. Thank you for everything you did for Cas, and for me. I was always welcome at your house, and I will never forget your kindness. Thank you for your birthday presents and your smiles. Thank you for that one night when I ate too much popcorn and threw up in the bushes outside Cas’ window, and you just washed it off with a water hose and tucked me into bed. Most of all, thank you for Cas. He’s my best friend, and you made him into the person he is today._

_Dean_

_P.S. I’m still going to keep my promise. I swear._

Cas closed the letter back, the tears falling from his eyes now.

“That’s…thank you. She would have loved that.”

“You don’t want to know about the promise?” Dean asked, and Cas shook his head.

“That is between you and my mother. You can read my letter now. You let me read yours,” Cas said.

Dean opened up Cas’ letter, and was surprised to see that it was a piece of notebook paper, and not a sheet from the leather poetry journal he had given Cas. 

_Dear Mom,_

_No matter where my life takes me,_  
 _The places I go,_  
 _The people I meet,_  
 _There will always be an emptiness in my soul._  
 _The lights and colors of your life_  
 _will exist there_  
 _eternally._

_I don’t even know what to say. You’re gone too soon. You’ll miss so much. Life will never be the same without you, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. Please don’t worry about me, though. Dean and I discussed our future, and I know it’s something you’d approve of, mostly. I already miss you. I will always, always miss you. Thank you for everything you did for me, for loving me, and for being an extraordinary mother. If I ever have children, I hope to be as wonderful to them as you were to me. I love you._

_Cassie_

“Cas,” Dean finally managed to say. “Your poem. It’s…I don’t know the words to describe it. Beautiful. That was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, and he took his letter back.

Holding both letters now, he stood and made his way back to his mother’s side. Dean instinctively let him go alone this time. Cas carefully lifted one of his mother’s cool hands and placed the folded letters under it before allowing it to rest again. He held onto it for a moment. Even knowing that his mother wasn’t truly there, it felt good to hold her hand one last time. He then moved to sit next to Dean again. They heard the door open behind them, and Mary and Sam came in.

Mary moved to Naomi to pay her respects, and Sam quietly sat beside Dean.

“Where’s the preacher?” Sam asked.

“We’re doing this different from Dad’s,” Dean answered softly. “We’ll leave here soon and go to the graveyard, and have the service there.”

“Why?” Sam asked, and Dean was thankful that Mary had come over to Cas and was speaking with him now, so he could whisper to Sam without being overheard.

“Because, Sammy, we’ll be the only ones here today, since Naomi was, well, you know…sort of an outcast. There’s no reason to have a long wake since we’re the only ones saying goodbye. Cas wanted the service at the graveside anyway.”

“That’s stupid. Naomi was really nice, she should have more than four people at her funeral,” Sam said.

“That’s society, Sam.”

“Then society sucks.”

“So change it.”

“I know about you and Cas faking it, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean’s eyes widened. “Chill out, I’m not going to say anything. See? I’m already changing society.”

“You little rebel,” Dean said with a smile.

“Look who my older brother is,” Sam countered.

“Excuse me,” Steven said from the door. “We’re ready to leave any time you are. You and Mr. Winchester will be the head car, Mr. Novak. It’s usually reserved for the soulmate, but given your _unnatural_ circumstances…”

It hit Dean then; the reason for the false cheeriness. The emotional detachment, the absolute lack of genuine understanding from Steven.

“May I have a word, Steven?” Dean asked quietly, while Cas looked as though he had been smacked in the face.

“Of course,” Steven said, and he and Dean left the wake room through the wooden doors.

“I take it you know about Naomi’s social status,” Dean said.

“I do,” Steven said, unable to hide a slight snarl of his nose.

“You didn’t know her. She was a mother to that boy in there, and might as well have been one to me too. She lived a life shut in her own damn house because of people who have attitudes like you,” Dean said, keeping his voice low and calm.

“I beg your pardon, but you understand how our society works. I was raised to react a certain way to broken soulmates, and their families. I have treated her son in a professional manner, though society dictates I should do nothing of the sort,” Steven said.

“Screw what our society says! Do what you should do as a decent human being, not a brainwashed dick! Cas, that boy in there whose eyes you are avoiding like you’re going to freaking catch a disease? He’s my soulmate. Mine. All he wants to do is give his mother a peaceful funeral, and find some closure, and so help me, if you get in the way of that I will break every bone of yours I can reach before the cops finally pull me off of you. Got that?” Dean growled.

“I do, _sir_.”

“Awesome. So let’s go back in there, you can apologize for acting like a dumbass, and we can move this party to the gravesite.”

Dean strode back through the doors, and was surprised to nearly knock over Cas and Mary with it. Cas looked wary, but Mary was looking at Dean with distinct pride.

“It has come to my attention, Mr. Novak, that I have been treating you a certain way. I apologize for that, and for my poor word choice earlier. I do hope you forgive me.”

“I do. Thank you for apologizing,” Cas said.

“Are we ready to move to the gravesite?” Steven asked, and Cas nodded. “Very well. Please meet us in your car around front. You will follow the hearse. Mrs. Winchester, you follow behind them.”

Steven left, and Mary pulled Dean into a hug.

“Mom! What?” Dean protested when she kissed his cheeks.

“You just gave me proof that I’m doing this parenting thing right,” she said, backing off. “Let’s go, Sam. Meet you two there.”

Mary and Sam left the room, and an attendant came in.

“I’m going to close the lid, if that’s okay,” he said to Cas.

Cas took one more long look at his mother.

“Yes, that’s fine. Are you ready, Dean?” Cas asked.

“Whenever you are,” Dean said, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“Let’s go,” Cas said, leading the way out of the room and not looking back.

He and Dean got back into the Impala and pulled to the designated area, waiting for Cas’ mother to be moved into the hearse, and the procession to begin.

“You always amaze me with your bravery,” Cas said suddenly.

“I…what now?” Dean asked.

“Your bravery. Steven crossed the line today, and I was too shocked to say anything. You did what you always do. You protected me, and my mother,” Cas said.

“I did what anyone would do,” Dean said, and the hearse, now apparently loaded, pulled into the lane in front of them and switched on its lights; Dean turned on his as well and they slowly pulled away, beginning the five mile trek to the graveyard.

“No, not everyone, or my mom wouldn’t have been shunned. You’re special,” Cas said, and Dean flushed.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I just did my soulmate duty,” Dean waved it off with his joke, and he and Cas drove the rest of the short trip staring out the front window into the cloudy summer day.

The graveside service was short, and Dean knew Cas wanted it that way. He didn’t want to spend hours dragging out this already painful process. The preacher said a few basic prayers, Cas and the Winchesters shared some happy memories about Naomi, and Cas placed a rose on top of her coffin. Then it was time to lower her down.

The cranking and grinding of the gears was like acid being poured directly into Cas’ stomach. Every lurch of the coffin into the ground was more painful than the last, and he could feel the tears begin to cascade down his face. This, Dean knew, was the hardest part, and he was surprised Cas was doing as well as he was. 

Cas clenched his fists tightly on the seat of the chair, and Dean recognized a familiar look in his eyes. The urge to run, to get away as fast as he could and never look back. He leaned in to murmur in Cas’ ear.

“I’m right here.”

Dean wrapped his hand carefully around Cas’ wrist and gave it a squeeze, the same way a little dark haired boy had once squeezed his best friend’s wrist at a funeral all those years ago.


	7. Chapter 7

It was late afternoon when everyone finally made it back to the house, exhausted and emotionally spent.

“You boys hungry?” Mary asked, walking up toward the porch.

“Starving,” Sam answered.

“Of course you are, you Moose,” Dean said. “Wow, what’s all this?”

Dean stopped and stared at the porch, along with everyone else. There were plates of biscuits and breads, fresh baked cakes and pies, and a few coolers. Dean recognized one as Jo’s from the beach, and looked inside. He found bowls of different potato salads, sandwiches, and sliced up cheese. Each container of food on the porch had a card sitting with it, indicating who had brought it, and expressing their sympathy.

“This is…why would they do this?” Cas asked in shock.

“Just because society thinks a certain way it doesn’t mean everyone in it does,” Mary said. “It looks like your mom was loved, even if they didn’t show it.”

They carried the food inside and set about putting it all away, though Mary kept the platter of sandwiches and potato salad out. Dean managed to convince her to keep a pecan pie out as well. The family ate together, feeling the tension of the day slip away until it nearly felt normal.

After a piece of pie each, Mary washed the dishes, and Cas volunteered to dry them. Sam went to his room, muttering vaguely about a nap, and Dean desperately wanted to change out of his clothes.

“You never dress up, and you look so nice,” Mary said.

“It’s hot, Mom. I want some shorts and my Grateful Dead shirt,” Dean answered, and he left to change.

“I’ll never tame that child,” Mary said with a smile, handing Cas a dish to dry.

“No, he’s always been that way. I expect he always will be.”

“Probably…how are you doing, sweetie?” Mary asked quietly.

“I’m okay. Really,” Cas said, when Mary looked slightly disbelieving.

“You aren’t at all, but you will be.”

“That seems more accurate,” Cas admitted.

“What are you and Dean doing this evening?” Mary asked.

“I was just about to ask the same thing,” Dean said, coming into the room in his comfortable clothes.

“I really want to finish that Harry Potter marathon,” Cas said, and Dean grinned.

“I think we can handle that.”

“Cas, you go on. I can do these dishes myself. I’m used to it,” Mary cast a teasing look at her son.

“Aw, Mom, you make me sound like the laziest son ever,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“I can help,” Cas said, but Mary made a shooing motion with her wet hands.

“I was just kidding. Go watch your movies.”

Hours later, after everyone else had gone to bed, Dean and Cas were halfway through the fifth Harry Potter movie (and their second plate of sandwiches), when Harry broke out the Marauder’s Map, and a thought struck Dean.

“Hey, Cas,” he said, nudging the other boy with his shoulder. “How come you didn’t use paper from your journal to write your poem to your mom?”

“I don’t want the first thing to come out of that journal to be negative,” Cas answered honestly.

“But you’ve already written in it. I saw you on your soulmate day. You had it open, and had your violin music playing.”

“I haven’t written in it yet,” Cas said, leaning over to the side of the bed to pull the book from his bag, and opening it to show Dean. “See? I was just looking at it. Sometimes I like to listen to violin music because I _enjoy_ it, Dean.”

Cas sat back up to their normal position on the bed, shoulders touching and plate of sandwiches off to the side.

“Yeah, totally normal to stare at blank paper while listening to violin music, Cas,” Dean said, elbowing him in the ribs. “Thinking about paper. You poetic shit.”

“I wasn’t thinking about the paper,” Cas said softly. “I was thinking about you.”

The electricity shot through the room again, and Dean could nearly feel it pulsing between them where their shoulders met.

“Me? Why?” Dean asked.

“I was thinking that everything was going to change. That you would be disgusted by having me as a soulmate, especially after your reaction,” Cas said.

“Whoa, Cas. I wasn’t disgusted by you,” Dean said, moving to sit cross-legged in front of Cas. “I was surprised, that’s all.”

“I know that now, but I didn’t then. I needed time to think, so I turned on my music and I thought about it.”

Dean nodded.

“I can understand that, man. It was a lot to take in.”

“I decided that I’m happy with this,” Cas said. “Better you than Meg.”

“Hell, Cas, literally _anyone_ would have been better than Meg,” Dean laughed, and Cas did too.

“Maybe, but I’m glad it was you,” Cas said. “You’re special.”

“You’re making me blush,” Dean teased.

“No, I mean it. I’ve never met anyone else like you. Brave, kind, funny. The things you did for me today alone were amazing.”

Dean’s face felt warmer.

“Yeah, but look at you. Artistic, talented, and really over-protective. And you always know exactly what to say,” Dean said.

Dean had moved closer to Cas on the bed without even realizing he was doing it. 

“Just to you, I think. Most of the time I’m socially awkward,” Cas said, his voice low.

“I think you’re perfect,” Dean said, the confession slipping out before he could stop it.

Cas swallowed, and slowly raised his hand to Dean’s face. The warmth of it sent goosebumps down Dean’s arm. He leaned forward some more, coming up onto his knees to kneel in front of Cas’ crisscrossed legs. Cas sat up straighter, bringing himself even closer to Dean, and looking into his wide green eyes.

“You think I’m perfect?” Cas quietly.

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” Dean said.

Dean lowered his head slowly, and pressed his lips against Cas’. Cas raised his other hand to cup Dean’s face on both sides, and Dean rested one hand on Cas’ chest. They stayed like that for a moment, almost as though time had frozen around them, before breaking apart. Neither was willing to back away, and the air between them became hot from their breaths.

“That was, um, it was-,” Cas stumbled.

“Yeah,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, you want to-”

“Finish the movie?” Cas suggested.

“Oh, yeah, the movie. Let’s-let’s do that,” Dean said, and he settled back against the wall again.

Cas slid into place next to him, this time being careful to keep their shoulders from touching. He sat rigidly still, his brain working furiously. Beside him, Dean’s eyes were on the movie, but his brain wasn’t. Instead, it was short circuiting with thousands of different questions. Why had he just kissed his best friend? Was it the emotions of the day, just showing themselves? Yeah, that had to be it, because Dean would never kiss Cas like that. Then why didn’t it feel wrong? Jesus, why did he even feel like this at all? Was he _gay_?

“I’m tired,” Dean said, too loudly.

“Go to sleep?” Cas said, as if it were obvious.

“Yeah, I think I will. Just let me move over here,” Dean said, wriggling under the blankets and away from Cas, not wanting to accidentally brush against him.

“Is it okay if I finish this movie?” Cas said, avoiding Dean’s gaze. “I’m curious how they handle Umbridge in the movie version.”

“It’s fine. I can sleep through anything,” Dean said. 

He rolled over and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come. It wouldn’t. The past week had been a mindfuck of epic proportions: the soulmating, Naomi’s death and funeral, kissing his damn best friend. When things went wrong for Dean Winchester, they went really, _really_ wrong.

Cas listened to Dean's breathing slowly become more even, an itch crawling under his skin. What had just happened? There was no possibility Dean felt romantically toward him, and Cas had never harbored any feelings for Dean either. Cas knew that a person's brain reacted to stressful events. Perhaps Dean thought that Cas needed affection to soothe the pain of the day? Yes, that seemed to make sense. Dean's brain had reacted on impulse. 

Cas brushed a finger across his lips, still warm from the sudden kiss. It hadn't felt _bad_. In fact, if he were being truthful, it had felt good. Immediately, Cas felt ashamed. Dean had kissed him out of kindness, or pity. Cas knew he shouldn't be feeling these things. He _wasn't_ feeling these things. It had been a long, difficult day, and Cas knew he must be confused from the stress of it all, and that was it. He curled into a small ball, giving up on the movie and facing the wall, and tried to get some sleep. He just needed to put this day in the past.

*

At some point the angst must have faded into dreaming, because the next thing Dean knew, a ray of sunshine through the pointless blinds in his bedroom was hitting him in the face. It took him a moment to realize why he felt as though someone had stabbed him in the stomach with a rusted knife. Ah, yes. Screwing up everything by kissing Cas. He turned over to see Cas asleep on his own side of the bed, curled away from Dean and huddled in a small ball. Quietly, Dean sat up and got out of bed, grabbed some clothes and his phone, and went downstairs. Blissfully, no one else was awake yet. He dialed a familiar number.

“Hey, Jo,” he said when she picked up.

“Do you know what time it is? It’s a Saturday, asshat.”

“Yeah, I know. Listen, I need to get out of the house. Do you want to go to the all-day marathon at the movie theater? My treat,” Dean said.

“What did you do to Cas?” Jo asked.

“Okay, new rule: no mentioning Cas today. You coming or not? It starts in an hour.”

Jo sighed.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up.”

Dean hung up and scrawled a quick note to his mother, which he left on the kitchen table.

_Gone out with Jo today. Call my cell if you need me._

He grabbed his keys and headed out the door, closing it quietly behind him. He was at Jo’s house soon, and Ellen let him in the front door.

“Morning, Dean,” Ellen said, a cup of coffee in her hand and a grin on her face. “What did you do to Cas?”

“Jesus, Jo!” Dean yelled at her as he came into the house and saw Jo sitting on the couch. “Do you tell her everything?”

“I didn’t say anything! All I did was tell her you and I were going to the marathon today!” Jo said back.

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure you out,” Ellen said, crossing her arms and staring at Dean. “You run when you get scared. So what did you do?”

“Nothing! I just needed a day out. That’s all.”

“Mm. I bet. Well, get going, both of you. See you this evening. And Joanna, you call me if you’re one second later than eleven, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jo answered, and she and Dean went out the door.

“So,” Jo began the second they were in the car.

“Shit, Jo, I said I don’t want to talk about Cas,” Dean hissed.

“I was actually going to say I’d buy breakfast since you’re treating me to the marathon,” Jo smirked.

Dean felt like an ass.

“That’d be great, thanks. Just a drive-thru thing?” he asked, and Jo nodded.

“Sounds good.”

The rest of the trip passed without another foot-in-mouth incident from Dean, and soon both he and Jo were full of greasy breakfast burritos and happily sitting in a nearly-empty movie theater downtown. The theater was showing the Star Wars movies today (in order of release, much to Dean’s pleasure), and even though the series was popular, it was the theater’s go-to marathon for Saturdays, and most people had grown bored of it a long time ago.

Jo and Dean sat through several movies, rising only to stretch occasionally, go to the bathroom, and grab some nachos and hotdogs for lunch at the concession stand in between movies. Dean felt relaxed. He needed this day out, away from Cas. It felt normal to be sitting through the Saturday marathon with Jo at the theater. He missed normal.

Anna joined them that afternoon, and Dean was pleased to see she’d managed to sneak in some fast food burgers for dinner. They sat quietly and enjoyed the newer Star Wars movies until finally, nearing ten thirty, the last movie of the day ended. Dean stood and stretched, his muscles aching and joints popping from the lack of activity. He and the girls walked back outside to the lit parking lot.

“Dean!” a voice drawled. “What are you doing here without your Cassie?”

Meg. Dean turned to face her, plastering a smile on his face.

“Having a day to myself. Sometimes a guy needs to relax, away from the ball and chain,” Dean said.

“Of course,” Meg said, coming closer, and Dean didn’t realize he’d backed into a wall until his heels hit it. “Just wondering though…when did your tastes change from female to male?”

Dean bristled at the comment.

“Meg, can’t you be a bitch somewhere else?” Jo countered, and Meg didn’t even spare her a look.

“Go run home to Daddy, Jo. Oh, that’s right…”

Anna’s face went red with anger, and Jo’s eyes widened for a millisecond before she stepped toward Meg, clearly intent on causing her as much pain as possible.

“Jo, back off,” Dean said, and Jo shot him an angry look. “I don’t need you getting arrested, your mom will kill me.”

“Acting like a man now, Dean?" Meg leaned closer to him, breathing hot air onto his neck. "Man, I bet this gets your parts all tingly, doesn’t it? Me, so close, so willing to give you what you need. Something you really want from _Cas_ , but you're too scared to admit it, and you can never have it again…unless it’s with someone who doesn’t give a damn about soulmating. Like me.”

At this Meg pressed her body into him, sealing her lips against his and grinding her hips in a filthy way. Dean didn’t want to hurt her, but he still shoved her backwards, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Dean?” a whispered voice said, and Dean turned toward it just in time to catch a glimpse of dark hair as Cas disappeared around the corner.

“Cas! Wait!” Dean yelled, but Cas didn’t return, and Dean rounded on Meg. “You knew he was here! Dammit, you did that on purpose!”

“Now, would I? Oh, yes, I would. Flaunting your relationship in my face may have had something to do with that,” Meg said with a hint of venom.

“You’re still not over that?” Anna asked. “You and I both tried with Cas, nothing happened. That’s the end of it!”

“And he should have been my soulmate! Instead he ends up with this useless coward!” Meg yelled.

“You’re lucky you’re not a man, Meg, or I swear-,” Dean began.

“What, Dean, you’d secretly want to fuck _me_ too?” Meg said, smirking.

Jo strode forward, drew her fist back, and smashed Meg squarely in her face. Meg was shocked, but attempted to fight back before Jo landed another blow, effectively knocking Meg to the ground, where she put her hands up to stop the blows and concede defeat. Jo stepped away, rage on her face, and Dean silently reminded himself to never piss her off.

“Go get Cas, Dean,” Jo said.

“I have to get you home,” Dean said, but Anna waved the comment off.

“I can drive her. Go find Cas,” Anna said.

Dean walked off, happy to be away from the situation at hand, and started looking for Cas. He searched the street he had seen Cas turn on to when he disappeared at the theater, but he was nowhere to be found. Dean realized it was getting late, and he sent a quick text to his mom.

_Sorry, I know it’s late. Be home soon as I can._

Mary responded quickly.

_Everything ok? –Mom_

Dean paused for a moment. No, everything wasn’t okay. He and Cas had kissed for some damn reason he was still trying to figure out, and now Cas thought he was screwing around with Meg. 

_Think so, just some stuff with me and Cas._

_Take as much time as you need. You know where the spare key is. –Mom_

Thank God for his understanding mother. Dean set off again, searching up and down the darkened streets, but was unable to find Cas. He was about to give up entirely and head back home alone when he heard a small sigh. He turned, and saw Cas sitting in the doorway of an abandoned old furniture place. 

“Cas?” Dean asked.

“Don’t bother,” Cas retorted.

“I wasn’t kissing Meg, I swear,” Dean said, but Cas huffed out air impatiently.

“I know you’re not great at communicating, but that’s what it’s called when your lips touch someone else’s,” Cas said.

“Wow, sassy when you’re pissed,” Dean retorted.

“I woke up to you running off with Jo to avoid me-,”

“I wasn’t avoiding you!” Dean lied.

“Please. All these years, and you think I don’t know you? I knew where to find you, didn’t I? We are _faking_ a soulmate connection. People have to believe this, yet you kiss someone else in public. And it's Meg, who I thought you disliked. Are you _that_ repulsed by being with me?”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean said, running his hand through his hair and sitting next to him on the stairs. “Of course not. Look, call Jo if you don’t believe me. If you need more proof, go see Meg’s bloody face, because I think Jo broke her nose.”

“Why?” Cas asked suspiciously.

“Mainly for screwing with me, but also for talking about Jo’s dad.”

Cas sat quietly on the stairs.

“You really didn’t kiss her?” he asked again.

“No. I feel like I need to brush my teeth to get the taste of ‘cigarettes and regret’ out of my mouth,” Dean cast a teasing glance at Cas as he did finger quotes.

Cas smiled slightly.

“I’m sorry. I just came around the corner and saw you kissing, and I…well, imagine if you saw Meg and I the same way,” Cas said.

A strange emotion erupted in Dean’s chest. No, he couldn’t imagine seeing Meg and Cas kiss, because the next thing he imagined was Jo knocking her teeth in, and it felt good. Cas wasn’t Meg’s, Cas was his. Shit. Not _his_ his, but his. Yeah, that made a lot more sense. He mentally kicked himself. What the hell was wrong with him?

Dean noticed Cas shivering slightly. He still hadn’t gotten used to the summer night air, thanks to the defunct air conditioner in his room. 

“Come on, Cas, let’s get you back to the car. You’re cold.”

Cas stood without argument, and he and Dean made their way back to the Impala. Once inside, Dean turned the heat on and rolled his window slightly so he could breathe in the stifling temperature. When they reached the house, he had shed his outer shirt, only wearing his tank top, and Cas had finally warmed up. 

Dean picked up the ugly gnome out of the flower garden, down to only one eye after a rather unfortunate incident with a weed eater a few years ago. He found the spare key hidden in its base, and unlocked the door to let him and Cas into the silent house. They made their way up to Dean’s room, changed into their pajamas, and climbed into Dean’s bed. The clock on the bedside table read 11:52. 

Dean lay on his side, staring into the dark room, while Cas kept his eyes resolutely on the wall beside the bed. Neither said a word. Occasionally, a lone car would pass, casting long shadows onto the walls, until Cas could no longer stand the silence.

“Dean,” he whispered into the air, wondering if Dean was even still awake.

“Yeah?” came the whispered reply.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said softly.

“Me too.”


	8. Chapter 8

When Cas awoke the next morning, Dean’s arm was thrown around his middle, and he had entwined his legs with Cas’. The two were facing each other, very close, and had apparently been that way for a while, judging by the uncomfortable numbness in Cas’ arm, currently squished under his side. They certainly hadn’t fallen asleep that way, and Cas was left to wonder at the power of the subconscious. He moved his legs slightly to get comfortable, and Dean stirred.

“Mmf. Mornin’, Cas,” Dean said, and he leaned forward to kiss the other boy on the forehead.

Dean blinked once or twice before the reality of what he had done rolled over him in waves, and he quickly jerked his arms and legs back to his side of the bed, nearly tumbling out of the bed in the process.

“ _Jesus_! I’m sorry, Cas, I don’t know what I was doing! It just happened, oh shit-,” Dean stammered.

“It’s alright, you’re half asleep. Our subconscious works in mysterious ways,” Cas said, and Dean seemed to relax, though his face stayed red.

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe,” Dean said, sitting up all the same and running his hands through his hair. “Get up, let’s go make some breakfast.”

Dean and Cas made their way downstairs in their pajamas, and Dean still felt awkward. He gave a quick “good morning” to Mary in the kitchen, then he and Cas volunteered to make eggs and bacon.

“Have a good morning so far?” Mary asked, noticing her son’s uncomfortable behavior.

“Sure, of course, why wouldn’t it have been good?” Dean said much too quickly, and Mary cast him a confused glance.

“Today is your last day before you begin work,” Cas said, and Dean was thankful he changed the subject. “Any ideas on how you’d like to spend it?”

“I was going to ask you about that,” Dean said. “Were you wanting to move into your house? ‘Cause we need to get going on that if you were.”

“What about bills?” Cas asked.

“About that,” Mary said, taking the skillet from Dean before he could destroy breakfast. “You’re all paid up through the first of next month.”

“What? How?” Cas asked.

“Consider it a soulmating gift.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Cas frowned.

“I know, and I did it anyway. It was worth it, just to save the amount of money I spend on groceries feeding Dean each week.”

“Funny,” Dean said, but he hugged his mom, and Cas did too.

“Thank you,” Cas said.

“You’re welcome. Are you boys moving over there?” Mary asked.

Dean looked at Cas.

“You want that?” he asked, and Cas nodded.

“I’d like to get back to my house,” he admitted.

“You don’t have much to move,” Mary pointed out to Dean. “Basically just your clothes and some personal stuff. You can keep your bed and dresser here in case you ever stay.”

Dean was about to argue over the bed when he realized he and Cas would be expected to share one. Well, that wasn’t unusual. They always slept in the same bed on sleepovers.

“We can get that done after breakfast, if you want,” Dean said to Cas.

Cas agreed, and he and Dean ate a quick (if slightly scorched) breakfast of bacon and eggs, then returned to Dean’s room with some boxes Mary had dug out of the basement.

“I don’t have much,” Dean said, looking around the room. “So let’s pack up my clothes. I just want to bring a couple of things.”

Dean and Cas filled a few boxes with clothes, throwing them in hangers and all, and Dean emptied his dresser as well. He looked around the room, and decided nearly everything could stay: the posters, his old athletic awards and other high school mementos. He packed up his photo albums, the blue and orange lava lamp he’d gotten by winning five thousand tickets at the pizza place in town, and some of his favorite movies.

“Ready?” he asked Cas, who nodded. “Awesome. _Sam_!”

Sam came in the room, looking at Dean like he’d lost his mind.

“What?” he asked.

“Time to put that unnatural size to some use. Help me carry these boxes over to Cas’ place.”

Sam sighed.

“Meet me downstairs,” Sam said, grabbing the lightest box and leaving the room.

Cas and Dean hauled the rest of the boxes downstairs, Dean grumbling, and saw Sam standing on the porch. Dean opened the door to tell him off for not helping, but he saw a large red wagon sitting at the bottom of the porch stairs.

“Work smarter, not harder,” Sam teased. “Better than carrying them one by one.”

The boys loaded the wagon and headed to Cas’ house, where they unceremoniously deposited the boxes into the living room. 

“Is that all you need, Great One?” Sam said, bowing dramatically.

“You’re dismissed, man servant. Go, and spread the word of my greatness.”

“Dude. You’re so weird,” Sam said, shaking his head and leaving the house.

“Get your house keys, Cas. We’re getting a burger, my treat,” Dean said.

“Shouldn’t we unpack?” Cas asked.

“We can do it tonight. Come on, I’m starving.”

Dean led Cas out of the house, and they went to the diner to eat a fast lunch. After that, Dean convinced Cas to take a ride down to their old high school. When they got there, Dean was pleased to see the janitor’s rusted truck was the only vehicle in the lot.

“Perfect,” Dean said, and he parked the Impala.

He and Cas got out of the car, and Dean walked straight for the entrance.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked. “There’s no one here to let us in.”

“Watch this.”

Dean stood in front of the double doors and pushed the intercom button to call the inner office.

“Sorry, the school is closed,” a voice came through the metal box.

“It’s me, Bert. Let me in,” Dean said.

“Aw, hell. Yeah, fine.”

Bert buzzed them in through the doors and met them in the entranceway.

“Can’t we even get rid of you when you graduate?” Bert said, shaking Dean’s hand.

“You tried. Can me and Cas have a look around?” Dean asked.

“Sure. Just be out of here by six. I got to lock this place up.”

Dean set off down the abandoned halls and Cas walked next to him.

“How do you know the janitor so well?” Cas asked.

“Remember back in our freshman year when I punched Raphael in the face? I was going to get suspended, then Mr. Fitz heard why I punched him. All I got sentenced to was helping Bert out after school for a few weeks.”

“I still don’t approve of how you reacted to Raphael,” Cas said, and Dean rolled his eyes, knowing he’d make the same decision again every time.

_“Hey, Winchester,” Raphael said, cornering Dean alone in the locker room after practice._

_“Hey, Raph. Good practice,” Dean said, and he toweled off the grime from the baseball pitch._

_“I guess. I just wanted to know how you and Castiel are doing. Still friends?”_

_“What do you mean?” Dean asked, confused._

_“I mean, I’m not comfortable changing in front of a guy who hangs around fags. You might be talking about my junk with him or something.”_

_Dean could feel his blood pressure rising._

_“Trust me, Raph, no one wants to see that, no matter what team they play for. And don’t you ever say anything bad about Cas ever again,” Dean said, squaring his shoulders._

_“Damn, don’t tell me you’ve gone gay too. You and Cas have something going on?”_

_“He’s my best friend. You gay for Michael?” Dean retorted._

_“We don’t act like you two do. Maybe the gay is contagious,” Raphael said, sneering. “Looks like you caught the fag off of your fairy, Castiel.”_

_Dean reeled back and slammed his fist into Raphael’s jaw, setting off a brawl so loud and forceful that it drew the attention of the janitor._

_“Hey, HEY!” Bert yelled, pulling Dean and Raphael apart. “What’s going on here?”_

_“Ask the damned queer,” Raphael said, wiping blood off his mouth. “He got all pissed when I insulted his boyfriend.”_

_“That’s enough from you,” Bert said, casting the boy a disgusted look. “Both of you, Fitz’s office, now.”_

“Bert saved my ass that day,” Dean said. “Fitz was going to have me suspended, but Bert told him what Raph said to me, and it was over after that. Turns out it’s best not to use anti-gay slurs in front of the gay janitor.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have fought over me. But thank you,” Cas smiled.

He and Dean spent a good portion of time roaming the halls, looking into their old classrooms and generally screwing around. Dean impersonated some of their least favorite teachers, causing Cas to laugh loudly. 

They walked down the stairs, Dean leading the way, until they were in front of two large wooden doors. 

“Why are we at the auditorium?” Cas asked, and Dean flushed.

Dean opened the doors and he and Cas walked down to the darkened stage.

“You spent more time here than in class, I swear. I know you’d sneak down here every chance you got,” Dean said. “And you were always something to watch on stage during the Poetry Slam. I’ve never seen anyone better.”

“I didn’t know you came to the Poetry Slam,” Cas said, and Dean turned red again.

“I came every year, and I’d sit in the back. You were amazing. If the thing had been a contest, you would have won. I really liked the one you did for our senior year. What was it? Something about fireflies.”

“That was my favorite one,” Cas said.

“Do you remember it?” Dean asked, and Cas nodded. “Well, there is a stage behind you. And a willing audience in front.”

“I-are you sure?” Cas asked.

“Positive. I can’t work the lights, though, sorry.”

Cas walked up the stairs to the center of the stage, and Dean took a seat in the first row. Cas closed his eyes momentarily, like he would every year before his performance. He could almost hear the hushed sounds of a crowd, feet shuffling on the floor, muted coughs, stifled giggles from friends. Cas opened his eyes again, fixing them on the clock at the back of the auditorium, and launched into his poem.

Dean watched, transfixed. It was partly the words, of course, but mainly it was Cas’ delivery. He spoke with such a passion, a love for the words he had written, that he was like lightning in a bottle.

_“Summer again._  
 _The fireflies buzz the skies._  
 _All buzz,_  
 _all glow._  
 _None more special than the last._  
 _Made the same._  
 _Same purpose._  
 _Indistinguishable._  
 _Blind in flight,_  
 _unimportant._  
 _Then there is one._  
 _Its light dances._  
 _The movements,_  
 _erratic._  
 _It glows brighter._  
 _It dances wilder._  
 _Not a light,_  
 _but a beacon._  
 _For soon,_  
 _it will be winter.”_

Cas closed his eyes again, a wide grin on his face. Dean stood and came to the edge of the stage, and when Cas opened his eyes, he walked over to join him.

“You’re a born performer,” Dean said, but Cas shook his head.

“Just with my poems. I tried theater once, and it was awful,” Cas said.

“Yeah, I remember the stage fright from tree number three,” Dean laughed.

“That was third grade!” Cas said. “A perfectly reasonable reaction for that age.”

“I think you shook so hard the tree costume lost a branch,” Dean said.

“That isn’t funny! I thought I was going to pass out!” Cas said indignantly, leaping gently down from the stage and standing in front of Dean.

“It was hilarious, and you know it,” Dean said, and Cas tilted his head in a characteristic way. “What’s the difference between that and your poetry?”

“I’m in control of my poetry, when I want to stop, when to leave the stage,” Cas said. “I don’t have to just stand there and pretend to be a plant. They didn’t need me. Why didn’t they just make a tree?”

“You’re adorable,” Dean said before he could help himself.

Damn. He really needed to learn to apply a filter between his brain and his mouth. Cas, for his part, looked more insulted than flattered.

“You think so?” Cas asked. “It seems like I remember you as a ten year old dressed up like Abraham Lincoln, standing on stage for President’s Day, and forgetting your lines.”

“I recovered,” Dean said.

“Yes. Somehow I don’t think Mrs. Anderson appreciated you saying ‘four score and seven years ago, I had a silly hat’.”

“No, but the audience did,” Dean said.

Cas shook his head.

“You’ve always been so comfortable with yourself,” Cas said. “I wish I could have been.”

“Hell, Cas, I could say the same for you. It’s pretty damn brave to come out in a town as small as Chesterfield.”

“I had no choice. No one else had to hide their sexuality. Why should I?” Cas asked.

“That’s a good point, but it doesn’t make it less impressive. Your mom told me you were special, and she was right.”

Cas smiled sadly, and drew closer to Dean. He reached for Dean’s hands, and held them both in front of him, pulling him closer. Cas grinned at Dean. Suddenly, the intercom came to life and blasted Bert’s voice into the auditorium.

“Dean Winchester, report to the office and get the hell out of here so I can lock up. Over and out.”

The moment was broken, and Cas stepped back from Dean, releasing his hands.

“We better go,” Cas said.

“Yeah, we should,” Dean said, and he followed Cas out of the auditorium and to the office, where they met Bert.

“Hey, thanks for letting us have a look around,” Dean said, shaking his hand.

“Anytime. You’re a good kid,” he turned to look at Cas. “Take good care of this one. People like him don’t come around often.”

“I know,” Cas said, and Dean felt a strange warmth in his chest.

“You two go on. I got to lock up.”

Dean and Cas walked back to the Impala, and drove back to Cas’ house. They made their way to the kitchen, stepping around boxes in the living room that Dean dreaded unpacking.

“Are you hungry?” Cas asked.

“Always,” Dean answered.

“I’ve got a frozen pizza, but I’ll have to go to the store while you’re at work tomorrow.”

“Dude, no way. You can’t walk back with groceries like that. I’ll just stop by after work. Make me a list.”

Cas agreed, and popped the pizza in the oven. Dean busied himself with unpacking his clothes during the fifteen minutes it took for the pizza to finish cooking, his stomach rumbling. When the timer went off to announce the cheesy goodness was done, Dean was in the kitchen in an instant, helping Cas pull plates out of the cabinet. He poured them some tea, and they sat at the table to eat.

“I believe your mother was correct,” Cas said, watching Dean shovel in his second piece of pizza in under two minutes. “No doubt, she will save money by you living here and eating.”

“What?” Dean asked around a mouthful, cheese hanging from his lips.

Cas sighed, and noticed they were out of napkins. He abandoned his pizza to go get some fast food ones out of his jacket pocket in the living room. He reached in, and his hands brushed the cold corner of a small box. He pulled it out, remembering his mother handing it to him the day before he was soulmated with Dean.

He couldn’t bear to open it now. Whatever was in there, whatever his mother had given him in some of the last moments he’d had with her, he didn’t want to see it. All it would do would be to remind him of his lie to her. The wound was still too fresh, his mother barely cold in her grave, and he didn’t want to revisit any pain right now. 

He shoved the box back into the jacket pocket, pushing the thought of it from his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

Cas and Dean had decided against unpacking that night, exhausted as they were from the hijinks at their school. Instead, they focused on the confusion of where they were going to sleep.

“You can have my room,” Cas said.

“No way! I’m not kicking you out of your own room,” Dean replied.

In all honesty, that was only part of the problem. He knew Cas wouldn’t want to sleep in Naomi’s old room in her bed, especially since she had died there.

“You can’t sleep in there, Dean,” Cas said, and Dean knew in that instant that Cas was thinking the same thing. “Take my bed, and I will sleep on the couch.”

“Like hell you will. Come on, we sleep in the same bed all the time at my place.”

“Yes, but your bed is a full size. Mine is only a twin. You are not small,” Cas said.

“Dude, are you calling me fat?” Dean joked. “It’ll be fine. I won’t roll over and squash you in my sleep or anything.”

Cas knew it was the best plan. He couldn’t bear to sleep in Naomi’s room, and he didn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable by suggesting he do it either. But twin beds were so tiny. He and Dean were both healthy boys, though Dean was certainly larger, and would likely be cramped. Still, unless one volunteered to sleep on the ratted furniture in the living room, it was their only choice.

“Okay,” Cas sighed. “But you sleep next to the wall.”

Dean agreed, and he and Cas set about getting ready for bed. They each had a shower, brushed their teeth, and threw on pajamas. Dean climbed into the bed first, situating himself flush against the wall, and Cas lay next to him. They turned away from each other, and muttered sleepy goodnights before closing their eyes.

Dean fell asleep fairly quickly, but Cas was burning up. The box fan in the room was basically shoving the hot air around instead of cooling it off, but he never complained. That was the reason he had insisted Dean take the spot against the wall. The coolness of the wall against his body was the only way Cas had managed to sleep after his air conditioner had broken, and since Dean started work in the morning, Cas wanted him to be well rested.

He really wished the air conditioner could have been fixed. Naomi had had the money for it, but every time she called a place to get it done, they would claim to be too busy to come look at it. Eventually, Cas told her he didn’t need it, and was comfortable enough without it. She didn’t have enough money to buy a new one, and Cas would never mention it to her, instead sleeping with his window flung open and box fan on. He was uncomfortable, certainly, but he could deal with the discomfort if it meant his mother avoided being constantly reminded of her social status.

Cas dozed on and off throughout the evening, sleeping from exhaustion only to be woken up by the heat. When Dean’s alarm went off early the next morning, he was relieved. He turned it off and shoved Dean’s shoulder to wake him up. Dean groaned, but crawled out of the bed after Cas, padding to the closet to find some work clothes.

For his part, Cas made coffee and some toast and had it waiting downstairs when Dean finished with his morning routine. 

“Playing housewife?” Dean grinned, but it quickly vanished when he realized the implications of what he’d said. “What are you going to do today?”

“I thought I might unpack, and go to the carpenter’s to see if he needs help.”

“Yeah, Cas, about that. Listen, I know you want to work to help, but I know you. You’ve wanted to go to college as long as I’ve known you.”

“I don’t think now is the right time to do it,” Cas frowned.

“If you wait for the right time, you’ll never do it. And you need to use that brain of yours. Besides, we don’t have another car to get you to the carpenter’s for work.”

“I can walk,” Cas shrugged.

“It would take you over an hour, easy. Thirty minutes to get to town, and at least another thirty to climb up the road where Gabe’s shop is.”

“I don’t like not doing anything to help,” Cas said, tilting his head.

“You are helping, Cas. Not having to drive you all over creation before I even get to work is a huge help. Just, I don’t know…work around the house.”

“Like a wife,” Cas frowned.

“No, like an equal. It’s not the fifties. I don’t expect either of us to be the ‘head’ of the household, or for one of us to stay home. All I’m saying is that this makes the most sense.”

“I suppose it does,” Cas agreed. “Alright. I stay home and do the housework while you work at Bobby’s. For now.”

“Two sides of the same coin. We’re equals in this, got that?” Dean said, and he grabbed his stuff to head out the door.

“I got it. Enjoy your first day.”

“Working at Bobby’s? Hell yeah, I will.”

Dean closed the door behind him and it was suddenly very quiet in the house. Cas set about unpacking the last of Dean’s clothes and his few possessions he had brought with him. The very last thing was the photo albums Dean had gently placed in the bottom of his last box. Cas pulled the top one out and stretched out on the floor, thumbing through the pages.

It was the oldest one of the group, and Castiel smiled to himself as he flipped through page after page of pictures, most of which contained him and Dean together throughout the years after they met. There were pictures of trips to the park, birthday parties, and one of the time Naomi and Cas had gone with Dean, Sam, and Mary to the beach. Cas remembered the trip fondly, though he was only thirteen at the time.

_“Mom?” Cas said, coming into the cabin kitchen where Naomi sat at the table alone._

_“It’s late. Why are you still awake?” Naomi asked._

_“Nightmare,” Cas said, embarrassed; he was far too old to be having nightmares and needing his Mom._

_“It was just a dream, Cassie. Sit down, I’ll get you something to drink.”_

_“Thank you,” Cas said a moment later, when Naomi placed a cup of warm tea in front of him. “Why are you awake?”_

_Naomi smiled widely, a genuinely happy look to her face._

_“I’m enjoying the feeling. No one knows me here, baby. No strange looks, no unfriendly faces. If I could live here, I would.”_

_“Then why don’t we?” Cas asked._

_“There are more important things to worry about than me in my life,” Naomi said simply. “How is Dean’s jellyfish sting?”_

_“Better. He said he can hardly feel it anymore.”_

_“That Dean is a special boy,” Naomi said, sipping the last of her own tea._

_“He’s really fun to be around,” Cas said, yawning widely. “I think I can sleep now.”_

_“Good. Go to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.”_

_“Night, Mom.”_

_“Night, Cassie. I love you.”_

Cas didn’t realize he was absentmindedly running his finger over the picture of his mother until he looked down. He felt his chest tighten at the happy, carefree look on her face, the waves of the beach shining in the background. She had finally been free there, but had never gone back. She’d talked about it, saying she’d return one day after Cas started college.

College. Dean wanted him to go, and if Cas was being honest with himself, he wanted to go too. But how could he? It wasn’t fair to Dean to make him work and shoulder all that responsibility alone. He’d just have to discuss it with him. 

A knock on the door stirred Cas from his thoughts. He put aside the photo album and answered the door, surprised to see Sam standing there.

“Sorry, Sam, Dean’s at work today,” Cas said.

“I know. I came to see you. Can I come in?” Sam asked, and Cas stepped back to let him in the house.

“Is everything okay?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, I just need to talk, and I don’t want to talk about it to Dean. He’ll just make fun of me,” Sam said, and he sat down on the tattered sofa.

“I’m always here to listen,” Cas said, and he gently sat down next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Sam sighed.

“It’s not so much that anything is wrong now, but it could be. It’s Jess…I really like her.”

“I don’t think that’s a problem,” Cas said.

“It’s not! Well, not really. We have so much fun together. Being with her feels right, you know? It’s almost like she’s me, except a better me. The things I’m not. And when we’re together, I want to be a better me…that’s dumb, isn’t it?” Sam said shyly.

“Not at all.”

“Dean would think it was.”

“Yes, well, your brother isn’t a big talker. He’s much more comfortable teasing you than talking with you. Not that he doesn’t love you, because he does.”

“I know,” Sam said.

“Sam, what’s the problem with feeling this way over Jess? Everything sounds fine to me,” Cas said.

“That’s the problem. Everything _is_ fine. I…I think I love her. But I can’t. What if she isn’t my soulmate? What if she wakes up at someone else’s house?”

“You say you love her…does she love you too?” Cas asked.

“She hasn’t said anything about it, but I think so. If she’s feeling like this, then yeah.”

“Then you don’t have to worry.”

“Of course I have to worry!” Sam said.

“Sam, do you know the soulmate spell story? How all of this started?” Cas asked, and Sam shook his head. “Okay, I’m going to make us some lunch. You sit at the table, and I’ll tell it to you.”

Cas did just that. He made a few sandwiches and opened a bag of chips he found in the back of the pantry. He set the food down on the table, poured two glasses of sweet tea, then sat down to eat with Sam. When Sam looked up anxiously, waiting for the story, Cas smiled.

“Mom used to tell me this story when I couldn’t sleep. It’s rather long, so does Mary know where you are?”

“She got called in to work at the hospital early today. Something about how Dr. Newman is out with the flu. I’m good. Just tell me the story.”

Cas sat back in his chair, abandoning his sandwich, and pulled the story from his memory.

“A long time ago, chaos covered Earth. A powerful demon came to rule in Hell, named Lucifer. He himself was a fallen angel, and hated humans. In Heaven, an archangel named Michael came to power. Though he didn’t openly hate the humans as Lucifer did, he still saw them as lesser life. The two fought mercilessly, causing destruction and death for the entire population. A final battle was coming, one that would cause the apocalypse on Earth.”

Sam’s eyes were as wide as they could go, enthralled as he was by Cas’ story.

“How did it stop?” he nearly whispered, and Cas smiled.

“Something impossible happened. An angel fell in love with a human. He convinced others to join him, to form a third side to the war. Together, they stopped the apocalypse and dethroned both Lucifer and Michael. Heaven and Hell were in an uproar. They banded together to hunt those who had imprisoned their leaders. Many, many died, on all sides. New rulers came to the thrones in Heaven and Hell. A demon named Crowley in Hell, and a team of angels in Heaven, led by a brave archangel named Gabriel. They decided that enough had suffered. It was time to call a truce.”

“They cared for humans?” Sam asked.

“Some say they did, others say they were only looking out for their own people. Regardless, the angel and his human love wanted to ensure the happiness of humans in the deal. They agreed to a truce, only if the soulmate spell was enacted.”

“Why?” Sam questioned.

“Because love changed both the angel and the human. Before each other, they were warriors. Cold, emotionless, dedicated only to the causes they were both assigned. After they fell in love, the entire world opened up to them. The freedom to choose, and live life as they wanted. They represented all humans at the treaty hearing, and demanded love for all humans, so none would ever feel the emptiness they had.”

“And Heaven and Hell both went along with that? After fighting for so long?”

“No. The angels said free will was dangerous. That if humans were all granted love and happiness, they would become lazy and have no will to do anything with their lives. Hell, though, argued that if all humans were happy, no one would make the deals necessary to keep souls coming into Hell at all, and the entire system would crumble. The angel was adamant, though. He told them that if the soulmate spell wasn’t enacted, he would do everything in his power to bring down both sides.”

“Just one angel could do that? Wow.”

“He was quite the powerful angel, and a skilled tactician. Crowley and Gabriel both knew he could do damage if he wanted to. After much discussion, and more than one argument, they agreed, as long as certain requirements were met. First, every human was only allowed one soulmate. If their soulmate died, or if he or she refused the soulmating, they would never be allowed another. Second, the spell must be binding, meaning that everyone gets only one chance to have a connection. If the pair doesn’t work out, for any reason at all, they will still be bound to one another, and can never be allowed a replacement soulmate. This kept both Heaven and Hell pleased; Heaven got the control it desperately wanted. Hell was guaranteed that not everyone’s pairing would work, and there would still be enough pain on Earth to ensure soul deals.”

“No offense, Cas, but that isn’t helping me feel better about Jess.”

“I’m getting there. The angel and his love saw that Heaven and Hell would try to make loopholes, so they demanded some changes of their own. First, soulmates were created in Heaven at the same time, and born into the same area to allow a chance for them to find each other before their birthdays. That's why nearly all children are born in the summer here. They must also be born around the same time to avoid major age gaps, and would not be informed of their mate until their eighteenth birthday, when they would awake in the person’s home. That kept meddling from Heaven and Hell in an infant’s life at bay. Second, and most importantly, if two soulmates came into contact before their soulmating day, they would fall in love.”

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Because, as the story goes, the angel and human said they waited long enough for love to happen to them. People shouldn't have to wait for love."

“Are…are you saying that if Jess and I fall in love, it’s because we’re soulmates?” Sam asked.

“I can almost guarantee it,” Cas smiled.

Sam visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his face releasing its tension.

“What about you and Dean?” Sam asked.

“He’s my best friend. We may be one of the soul connections destined to fail, but there are many people it would be worse to be bonded to.”

“Seriously? You have to know what everyone thinks about you two. What we’ve always thought,” Sam said.

“I do know, believe me. People have made it clear over the years. I think if Dean and I were in love, we’d know,” Cas said.

“Mom says that sometimes people in love are the last to know."

Cas gave a small laugh at that.

"You speak far too well to only be fourteen. Do you want another sandwich?" Cas asked.

"No thanks. I better get going. Thanks for lunch and everything.”

“You’re welcome. Come over any time,” Cas said, and he showed Sam to the door.

*

Dean was sweaty, greasy, and filthy. And he couldn’t stop smiling about it. Work at Bobby’s was just what he had always expected it to be. He spent the entirety of the day working on an old muscle car that needed to be fixed in time for a rod run. It was a complicated process that involved changing spark plugs and head gaskets, as well as fixing a squeaking fan belt and replacing the brake pads. Finally, Dean closed the hood, planning on detailing the car the following day and giving it one last look over before turning it back to its lucky owner.

The other workers left one by one, and Dean grabbed his stuff out of his locker to head to the grocery store, the list written in Cas’ slanted writing folded inside his pocket.

“Hey, Dean,” Bobby said in his gruff voice as he came out of his office. “Enjoy your first day?”

“It was awesome,” Dean said honestly.

“Yeah, you just remember that when it’s cold as balls in here in the winter and we’ve got to keep the garage doors open…how have you been?”

“I’m good, Bobby. Why?” he asked.

“I’ve just heard some stuff. You know how this town talks. Word is that you and Cas got soulmated. You okay with that?” Bobby questioned.

“Yeah, of course,” Dean said, and he took a step toward the door.

“Don’t play dumb, boy. I’ve known you your whole life, and this isn’t something you’re just going to be fine with after a week.”

“Bobby-,” Dean began.

“Don’t try that crap with me. I don’t care if people talk or not. All I care about is if you’re happy. Are you?”

“I-I am,” he said, and was surprised at how much he really meant it.

“Good.”

“Anything else the town is talking about that I should know?” Dean joked to break the tension.

“I heard Meg Masters woke up in the room of that kid whose face you tried to break…what was his name?” Bobby thought for a moment.

“Raphael?” Dean suggested.

“Ah! That’s it. Thing is, she had a big ol’ bandage on her nose where Ellen’s girl broke it. She was pissed, too, having to look like that on her soulmating day.”

“Yeah, well, at least her and Raphael have something in common to talk about. Broken noses,” Dean grinned and he patted Bobby on the shoulder as he left to go to Patterson’s store. 

He walked into the store twenty minutes later, waving at Mr. Patterson and grabbing a cart to fill up. Cas had listed basic things, like eggs, milk, flour, and several different kinds of fruits. Damn. He’d hoped to hell Cas had become less of a health freak, but it didn’t look like it as his eyes scanned down the list. All natural…whole wheat…Jesus. Dean found everything on the list, but he added some food of his own. Non-vegetarian pizza, barbeque chips, root beer, and something he didn’t recognize but surely looked delicious, called baklava. 

Dean pulled into the driveway at slightly past six, and managed to carry every last grocery bag to the door in one trip. He unlocked the door and opened it, allowing it to swing open gently as he brought in the bags. He began to call Cas’ name, but stopped when he saw him, fast asleep on the ragged plaid sofa in the living room. Dean noted that all the boxes were gone, having been unpacked, except for one next to Cas. It was the box of photo albums. Cas must have fallen asleep while looking at them. Sure enough, when he looked closer, Dean saw one open on his chest. He picked it up, and realized it was their oldest one. Toward the back, where Cas had been looking, there was the familiar picture of their two families at the beach.

He carefully placed the album back in the box and carried the groceries to the kitchen, where he put nearly all of them away. He had a sudden urge to surprise Cas with a home-cooked meal, and he scrubbed his hands in the sink to remove the dirt and grime built up from the day. Quietly, he moved around the kitchen, chopping chicken to batter and fry, and slicing up potatoes to boil and mash. As he worked, he glanced back at Cas over his shoulder, still sleeping peacefully on the couch, and wondered if he remembered the beach vacation the way Dean did.

_“Mom, my jellyfish sting still hurts,” Dean said after they returned the cabin, and Naomi and Cas had gone to change._

_“It will, sweetheart. They’re nasty little stings,” Mary said. “Does it hurt badly?”_

_“Worse than ten bees at once,” Dean said, wincing as he rubbed his hand over it._

_“Let me put some medicine on it-,” Mary began, but Dean shook his head._

_“No! It hurts to touch!” he said._

_“Dean?” Cas asked, coming back into the living room with a bowl in his hand. “I called Jo’s mom and she said to mix up this paste of baking soda and water, and spread it on the sting. You have to do it in a certain way…can I?”_

_“Sure, Cas,” Dean said, and stretched his leg out across the couch so Cas could apply the paste._

_He didn’t wince once, even going so far as to laugh with Cas while he worked, before Cas went to take the bowl back to the kitchen._

_“Cas is a special boy, don’t you think?” Mary asked Dean._

_He shrugged his shoulders._

_“He’s fun to be around. Can I go watch tv?”_

_“Sure sweetie. Love you.”_

Dean flipped the chicken in the pan, and stepped back until the sizzle died down some. It was apparently louder than he thought, because soon Cas was stumbling into the kitchen, looking bleary eyed and confused.

“Why are you cooking? I can do that,” he said.

“You were asleep, and besides, I’m the better chef anyway.”

“Since when?” Cas said.

“I’ve been practicing,” Dean argued.

“You burned our breakfast. Yesterday.”

“You can’t live in the past, Cas,” Dean said, and Cas rolled his eyes.

“Don’t try to take over the household duties too. I don’t want to feel entirely useless,” Cas retorted, and he pulled dishes out of the cabinet to set the table.

“You’ll never be useless,” Dean said with such honest sincerity that it rattled them both, and Dean scrambled to recover. “So, this is almost done. Want some root beer? I picked it up at the store.”

“No, you keep all that liquid sugar to yourself. I would like some tea.”

"Sweet tea is still liquid sugar," Dean said, but Cas ignored the sly comment.

Cas busied himself with making their drinks, while Dean finished cooking and brought it to the table. Both boys ate and talked in their normal, friendly way. On the surface, everything appeared as it always had between them. Underneath, however, was a different story. Every time their eyes met, Dean’s heart rate increased the tiniest amount, and Cas would feel a bizarre tingling in his stomach. Neither mentioned it, and once dinner was over and the dishes were in the washer, Dean was ready to relax.

“How about a movie?”


	10. Chapter 10

“No, Cas,” Dean said stubbornly, as Cas handed him a movie to put in the DVD player.

“We always watch your movies. I want to watch one of mine,” Cas argued.

“But it’s so…come on, man. It’s a Disney movie,” Dean said.

“Yes, and one that you have never seen.”

“I don’t even like Disney movies,” Dean said, but Cas’ eyebrows raised in doubt.

“The first movie you ever cried over was Bambi. I know for a fact that you went and saw Frozen with Jo as well. Don’t try to lie to me when I know better.”

“I’m not lying!” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

“Please. Your lip twitches in the corner every time you lie.”

Dean wanted to argue, but he knew it was no use. Cas knew him better than anyone.

“Fine, just give me the damn thing. What is it, anyway?” Dean said.

“Mulan. There’s lots of fighting and action. You’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

Cas settled back into the couch after Dean turned the movie on, sitting with his shoulder brushing Dean’s as always. But something had changed. The week was thrumming through Cas’ blood like his pulse. He and Dean had been soulmated. Dean had stood by his side during his own personal hell, had _kissed_ him, had promised him he’d never be alone. Could everyone be right? Were he and Dean true soulmates? Had they been in love this whole time, as Sam suggested, and never noticed it? Cas tried to shake the thoughts from his head and enjoy the movie.

Not long into the movie, Dean realized that Cas was right about how good it was. This girl was a stone cold badass. It was like looking at Jo’s alter ego. He got more into the movie than he would have liked to admit, and by the end, he was a Mulan fan. Cas kindly refrained from telling him that he knew all along.

“Li Shang was such an idiot. I mean, Mulan could fight. She could do anything,” Dean said as the credits rolled.

“Well, at the time, women were not considered to be equal to men. This movie is based on a true story, and it takes place a long time ago,” Cas said.

“Obviously, or Shang would have tapped that as soon as he saw how awesome Ping was. Instead he waited until he knew Mulan was a chick.”

“Some argue that he had a bit of a crush on Ping all along,” Cas mused, almost more to himself than Dean.

“Yeah, but how messed up was it that he waited until Ping turned out to be Mulan to make a move? He couldn’t just take her, or him, whatever, how he was?”

Cas fell quiet, and Dean’s ears reddened at the realization of what he’d said.

“Why did we kiss the other night?” Cas asked, so quietly that Dean could have pretended he didn’t hear him if he’d truly wanted to.

Damn, he wanted to pretend he didn’t hear. 

“I don’t know,” Dean said finally. “I thought maybe because it was such an emotional day, you know?”

Cas nodded. So Dean didn’t feel anything after all. They were one of the soulmate pairs destined to fail to please Heaven and Hell, and now Cas knew the truth. His mother had been destined to that fate, and now he was too. Cas stood quickly.

“I’m still tired, and you need a shower. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

He didn’t wait for a response, and instead walked to his room. He stripped down and put on pajamas before falling into the bed, his back against the wall. He pushed his hands against his eyes, pressing to try and dull the ache in his head. How could he be so stupid? Dean was straight. He knew that. That kiss had been a pure accident, spur of the moment based on the high emotions. Cas sighed deeply and tried to fall asleep.

*

Dean barely got out a goodnight before Cas was gone. He briefly wondered if he smelled that bad from work. After all, Cas had left rather quickly. He shrugged, and turned off the movie before making his way to the room to grab some pajamas out of the closet. 

“Jesus, it’s hot in here,” he said, but Cas didn’t move from his spot against the wall. “You feeling okay?”

“Not particularly.”

“Here, dude,” Dean said, turning on the box fan and aiming at Cas’ back. “Don’t overheat…you have a fever?”

Dean made his way to feel Cas’ forehead, but Cas turned away from the touch.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay, if you say so,” Dean said. “I’m going to go take a quick shower. Be right back.”

“Take your time,” Cas said in a flat voice.

Dean frowned and went to the bathroom to turn on the shower. What the hell was that about? He stripped, tossing his clothes into the hamper, and stepped into the hot water. He washed off the grime of the day from working at Bobby’s, watching the gray water run down his legs and down the drain. His eyes clamped shut to keep the suds from stinging. He couldn’t get Cas’ behavior out of his head. Why had he been asking about the kiss? Dean knew it was an emotional day. He didn’t blame Cas for the kiss. Maybe Cas blamed him. 

Dean got out of the shower and toweled off, throwing his pajamas on and making his way back to the living room. He was exhausted, but something was off, and he couldn’t sleep. In desperation, he texted Jo.

_Tell me you’re still up._

He waited. And waited. Finally, five minutes later, a message pinged on his phone.

_**What did you do now?** _

_Nothing! Damn. Cas is just freaking out because we kissed the night of his mom’s funeral. I think he blames me for starting it._

_**Has he said he blames you?** _

_No._

_**Has he said anything about not liking it?** _

_No, but he doesn’t have feelings for me. You know the truth about us Jo._

_**Oh I know the truth.** _

_I told you we were faking it at the movies._

_**I’m not talking about the movies. You two are in love.** _

_Don’t you think Cas would have told me if he was in love with me?_

_**There’s more ways to say I love you than just those three words.** _

Dean was suddenly overrun by memories. Cas, holding his hand when he broke his arm, squeezing his wrist so he wouldn’t be scared at his Dad’s funeral, telling him to wear sunscreen so he wouldn’t burn, and countless other things over the years. Cas, saying he wanted to fake this entire thing so Dean would never be a social outcast like his own mother had been. Holy shit.

And then the things he had done for Cas. Jesus. Everyone else knew before they did.

_I gotta go. Talk to you later._

_**Go get him, tiger.** _

Dean walked slowly to Cas’ room and opened the door.

“Cas?”

He came in and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Come on, dude, I know you’re still up. We need to talk,” Dean said, aware of how girly that sounded.

“I don’t feel like we have anything to say,” Cas said, his voice muffled.

“Dammit, Cas. Just turn over here and look at me, ‘cause I don’t know if I’ll be able to do this in the morning.”

Cas rolled over, looking at Dean with half lidded eyes that made his heart give an uncomfortable lurch.

“I…I just-I have to say-,” Dean stuttered.

“What?” Cas said, the snap gone from his voice, replaced with genuine concern, and he sat up.

Dean took a deep breath.

“The kiss, Cas. It wasn’t just emotions. I wanted to do that. Hell, I’d probably wanted to do that for a long time and just not realized it.”

“Dean…what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I know you, and I know what you’re thinking.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Cas said.

“Sammy called me at work. He said you told him the whole story of the soulmate spell.”

“He was concerned. I did what I could,” Cas replied, confused.

“You said that if he and Jess fell in love before their soulmating day, it meant they were going to be soulmates, right?”

“I did.”

“And that means that they aren’t destined to fail, because if they were, they wouldn’t have fallen in love in the first place?” Dean pressed.

“Yes, why do you need to know? Sam’s soulmating day is four years away.”

“Dammit, Cas, this isn’t about Sam and Jess!” Dean said loudly. “It’s about you and me. The years of being best friends, the soulmating. Aw, hell-”

Dean leaned forward suddenly and took Cas’ face in between his hands. He pressed his lips to the other boy’s and kissed firmly. Cas was startled, but the moment soon passed when he wrapped his hands around Dean’s waist and kissed him back just as fiercely. Dean pulled back, but kept his hands on Cas’ face, and Cas kept his arms snaked around Dean’s middle.

“It’s _that_ ,” Dean said. “That stupid spark I’ve felt since the first time we met, that I never freaking recognized. I just started seeing it for what it is. I don’t know what to call it, but it’s there.”

“Dean,” Cas said, his eyes searching Dean as though trying to commit the moment to memory; he said the first thing that came to his mind. “You’re not gay.”

Dean laughed loudly and deeply at that.

“Shit, I know I’m not. It’s not that I’m into guys. I’m just into _you_.”

They gradually let their hands drop to their sides, the whirring of the box fan and the crickets from outside the window the only sounds filling the room. Cas was staring wide-eyed at Dean, who looked unusually calm.

“You’re sure about this? I would think this realization would be hard for you,” Cas said.

“It’s been a long time coming, I guess. You’re making me nervous. You want to give this soulmating thing a real try?” Dean asked, and a brief look of fear crossed his face. “Because if you don’t feel the same, or whatever, I mean, that’s fine. It doesn’t have to be anything.”

“Yes,” Cas said quietly, and Dean stopped talking at once. “I want to really try.”

“Awesome,” Dean grinned widely. “But I really need to get to sleep. I have to work tomorrow. Do we still sleep in the same bed? We don’t have to, I can sleep on the couch.”

“And wake up with springs stuck in your back? We have slept in the same bed for over a decade. Why stop now?” Cas said.

“Yeah, of course. Move over,” Dean said, and Cas moved back against the wall.

Dean slid in next to him and flicked out the light. He realized how intensely hot it was in the room, even with the fan going full speed. He lay in the dark room, trying to sleep, and almost uneasy with how good he felt. Shouldn’t he be having some big internal dilemma? He turned his head to look at Cas, who was breathing deeply. No, he felt fine. This felt good. In that moment, for the first time in years, he didn’t care what people would say, what his own Dad would say. 

“Cas?” he whispered.

“Mmf?” came the muffled reply.

“Goodnight.”

“G’night Dean,” Cas answered sleepily, and was soon asleep again.

Dean settled back against the pillow, breaking out in a sweat from the heat, but doubting if he had ever felt so perfectly at peace before in his life.

*

The alarm went off too early the next morning, and Dean tumbled out of bed to turn it off. He’d hardly slept at all. How could Cas have lived in this heat? He threw on some clothes while Cas went downstairs to make a much needed pot of coffee, and came into the kitchen in time to see him slide two bowls of oatmeal onto the table.

“You don’t look well,” Cas said.

“I don’t feel it either. How the hell have you been sleeping in that room?” Dean asked, settling himself down with a large glass of orange juice.

Cas stopped, mentally smacking himself. He had taken the spot against the wall. That meant Dean must have barely slept at all from the heat.

“I’m sorry. I meant to let you have the wall, but with the events from last night, I forgot.”

“What do you mean, have the wall?” Dean asked.

“It’s cooler there. That’s the only way I slept before Mom…before you moved in,” Cas amended.

“Why the hell didn’t you say something? You couldn’t have slept through that,” Dean argued.

“I didn’t. But you needed to sleep for work. I didn’t.”

There it was again, just like Jo had said. Those three little, gigantic words, said without having to say them at all.

“Cas,” Dean said in a gentler tone. “You didn’t have to do that. We’ll get it fixed. Shit, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you after work, okay?”

Dean threw on his shoes and grabbed his wallet and keys, then placed his oatmeal bowl and juice glass in the sink. He hesitated before leaving for work, and Cas stepped toward him. He leaned in and pecked Dean softly on the lips, causing him to flush crimson and stutter out another goodbye.

“Be careful,” Cas said. “See you this evening.”

Dean drove to work in a haze. If one small kiss from Cas could do that to him, he wondered why he’d not seen their connection earlier. As soon as he pulled into his parking space at work, he picked up his phone and dialed Sam’s number. A small groan was all he heard on the other end to indicate Sam had answered at all.

“Morning, buttercup,” Dean teased. “Look, I need a favor.”

“At eight thirty in the morning on summer vacation?”

“Yes. Listen close, ‘cause here’s what I need you to do…”

*

Cas had cleaned the dishes and was watching horrible daytime television when a knock came at the door. Cas answered it to find Sam standing there, a small black box in his hand, looking like he hadn’t been awake terribly long.

“Dean sent me,” he said, without so much as a hello. “I think I can fix your air conditioner.”

“Thank you, Sam, but you really don’t have to do this,” Cas began, and Sam held up his hand to silence him.

“I actually do, if I intend to get a moment’s peace until the weather cools off, or I might die of Dean’s nagging voice. He said I had to come right away.”

Cas stepped aside and let Sam in.

“You know where my room is,” he said, and Sam nodded before climbing the stairs.

“I expect tea from this,” Sam grumbled.

“Thank you,” Cas called after him, but Sam simply raised on tired hand to indicate he’d heard.

Cas left him to his work, going back to the living room to watch some talk show about abusive parents. He silently thanked God that his own mother had been so wonderful. He knew not everyone was as fortunate.

_“Cas? Can I stay the night?” Dean showed up outside of Cas’ door at seven thirty on a Wednesday._

_“We have school tomorrow, but if Mom says it’s okay you can. Is something wrong?” Cas asked._

_“It’s just Dad again. He’s leaving for another stupid hunting trip and he wanted me to go. He says I’m not a real man if I can’t shoot a deer. He doesn’t even eat them, just takes their horns and leaves them dead.”_

_“Cassie, why are you standing in the doorway? I don’t pay to heat the whole neighborhood,” Naomi said, coming to the door. “Oh, hello, Dean.”_

_“Mom, can Dean stay tonight?” Cas asked._

_Naomi heard angry voices, and stuck her head out the door to see John and Mary arguing on their own front porch. Mary turned and saw Naomi, who gestured at Dean with barely a move, not wanting to upset him. He didn’t even notice, as his attention was entirely on Cas. Mary nodded her head, giving permission. She clearly knew that Dean had no interest in staying at home that night._

_“Of course he can, sweetie. Come in, Dean. Have you eaten dinner?” Naomi said, moving out of the doorway to let him in._

_“Yes, ma’am,” he replied._

_“Bet you haven’t had any pie,” she said, and Dean and Cas rushed to the kitchen. “It’s apple. Made it fresh a few hours ago.”_

_Cas and Dean ate their pie and escaped to Cas’ room._

_“Are you feeling better?” Cas asked, as they sat on his bed._

_“Yeah. Dad said he’s leaving in the morning, and I said I’m not going with him. I’d get out of school for a few days, ‘cause he won’t be back until Friday. But I can’t kill an animal. It’s not fair. I have a gun, what do they have?”_

_“Maybe you should explain that to your dad,” Cas suggested._

_“I’ll explain when he gets home on Friday. I think what I want right now is some time away from him.”_

Dean had never had the chance to explain, not that Cas honestly thought he should have to. His insides still curled with rage at how John had managed to abuse Dean without ever leaving a mark. The scars that words create don’t show on the skin, after all. Even his death had left Dean a self-blaming mess at ten years old. Cas would never wish death or pain on anyone, though he had to admit, even he had trouble finding redeeming qualities in John Winchester.

“Done,” Sam’s voice said as he entered the living room.

“Then come have some tea,” Cas said, standing immediately to make him a cup.

Sam followed Cas to the kitchen, and together they drank tea and enjoyed the mid-morning sunlight streaming through into the bright room. 

“Thank you for fixing the air conditioner,” Cas said.

“It was an easy fix,” Sam shrugged.

“I’ll take your word for it. I have never been good with machines.”

“I talked to Jess last night,” Sam said after a brief pause.

“And what did she say?”

“She said she doesn’t know what to call this feeling, but to give it time, because it feels like something big,” Sam said, a smile lighting up his features. “She said she thinks maybe it’s what falling in love feels like.”

Sam blushed furiously, and Cas was reminded of the similar words Dean had used to describe his own feelings.

“I think that sounds like wonderful news,” Cas said, and Sam grinned.

“Yeah, me too. But what about you and Dean?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean?” Cas said, heart suddenly beginning to hammer in his chest.

“He was actually happy on the phone this morning. Joking and everything. First I thought it was just because he woke me up early, but I don’t think that’s it.”

“We, uh…well, you see,” Cas stammered, and Sam held up his hand.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. Thanks for the tea, but I’m going to head home. I want to go back to sleep.”

Sam stood and made his way to the door. He and Cas said a quick goodbye, and Cas was left to his unusual feelings. He and Dean had kissed, and this time it had meant something tangible. Now, Sam said Dean was in good spirits, even early in the morning. Cas felt the tingling in his stomach again, and now he knew to associate it with Dean. But why? Dean had been open with his feelings, but what were Cas’ own feelings on this?

Cas took the stairs to his room, and was greeted by a blast of cold air. It felt like Heaven after all the sleepless hot nights in his room. He crossed over to his bed and sat down, turning on some violin music and opening the beautiful leather journal Dean had given him for his birthday. Cas uncapped his favorite pen and chewed on the end as the violin sang out a sweet melody. Then, like was so often the case, words came to his mind and he began to scribble on the page in front of him in long, slanted writing.

He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he knew the paper would.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really long, but I there's quite a bit that happens! No spoilers, but there is some adult content in this chapter, so consider this your trigger warning for smut/ drug use/ violence/ anti-gay slurs. Also, obligatory note that I (obviously) do not own the rights to the Beatles song Yesterday, or I would be a wealthy woman instead of a broke actress.

The week flew by, Cas kissing Dean every morning when he left for work, Dean kissing Cas whenever he came in the door in the evening. On Friday night, when Dean came in from work, Cas kissed him and led him to the kitchen.

“You’ve been busy today,” Dean remarked, looking at the table.

The table was piled high with home-cooked goodness in every way imaginable. Cas had made a fresh salad, and to appease Dean, he had added chopped ham and chicken, and nearly an entire block of shredded cheese. Next to that, he had placed a roasted chicken, a bowl of mashed potatoes (homemade, if the lumps and pieces of skin were any indication), some fresh corn from the market, and, causing Dean to nearly whimper in delight, a sinful looking strawberry pie.

“Don’t just stare at it. Eat it,” Cas said, handing Dean a plate and silverware before grabbing his own.

The boys piled food onto their plates, and Dean had to admit that Cas was a better cook. Everything was delicious, even the salad. Dean ate two plates, filled to the brim.

“Room for dessert?” Cas asked.

“Are you serious? Hell yes, I can eat dessert!” Dean said.

Cas laughed and sliced a large piece of the pie. He added whipped cream on top, causing Dean to nearly collapse from happiness, and set it in front of him. Dean took a large bite and closed his eyes at the sensation.

“If you cook pie for the rest of our lives, we’ll have the perfect soulmate bond.”

Cas flushed.

“I followed the recipes your mother gave me exactly.”

“I knew it tasted familiar. What are we celebrating, anyway?” Dean asked.

“Your first week at Bobby’s…and my education.”

Dean paused in eating. 

“Your education? Cas, did you…?” 

“I’ve been on the phone for two days. Lincoln University has a bachelor’s degree in English with a specialization in poetry, and the whole thing is offered online. They said with my grades and SATs, I’m sure to be accepted. The admissions man said if I can get everything in by next week, I’ll start classes in the fall.”

“That’s awesome!” Dean said, and he stood to walk around the small table, where Cas instinctively stood as well. “You’re going to be so great at this, I know it. Man, I can’t wait.”

Dean pulled Cas in for a tight hug, then kissed him lightly on his lips. Cas could feel the smile still on Dean’s face as he did so, and Dean quickly broke away.

“Where’s my phone? I've got to call Mom and Sammy!” he grabbed it off the counter and started to punch in their number, then stopped to lean in for a sweeter, longer kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”

Dean walked into the living room to call his family, the pie abandoned on the table. Cas felt like he could float away. Of all the things Dean could have said, being proud of him was possibly the best. Cas could do it; Cas could do anything, because Dean was proud of him.

He cleaned off the table, putting the leftovers in the fridge, and left Dean’s pie for him to finish, even adding a bit more whipped cream. By the time he had loaded the dishwasher, Dean had come back.

“You should have let me help. You did all the cooking,” Dean said, before plopping himself down in front of his pie once more. “Mom said to tell you congratulations, and Sammy too. They want us to come to dinner next week, and I kind of volunteered you to make the pie.”

“That’s very kind of them, and what type of pie?” Cas asked.

“Damn, dude, if you bake all of them like you did this strawberry one, I don’t care. Whatever you want. I’m going to take a fast shower, but I’ll save you some hot water. Then we can watch a movie or something.”

“I took mine earlier. Take as long as you want. Can I pick the movie?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, sure. Just nothing like Mulan again,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“You loved it. I have something better planned anyway.”

Dean sighed in a resigned way, and left to take his shower while Cas queued up the movie in the DVD player. When Dean came back into the room, freshly clean and shaven, scrubbing his wet hair with a towel, he was greeted by a black screen with a set of red lips singing a song.

“No…” he said. “We haven’t watched this in years.”

“Even better.”

Dean sat next to Cas on the couch, the familiar song making him relive their teenage years.

_“Anna says we have to watch this movie. It’s got Tim Curry in it!” Dean said, brandishing the worn VHS at Cas._

_“I don’t like horror movies,” Cas frowned._

_“It’s not! Come on, man. If it’s scary, you can hide your face. Anna hates horror movies anyway. And she said this is a musical.”_

_Later, when they were barely fifteen minutes into the movie, Dean spoke._

_“What the hell is going on?”_

_“I have no idea, but the music is good.”_

_“It is. Kind of catchy, actually,” Dean said._

_They watched the movie every day for nearly a month, to the point where they had the entire thing memorized. One morning, Cas opened his locker and laughed. Stuck to the inside was a picture of Tim Curry in full drag, with words scribbled across the bottom in Dean’s writing: I see you shiver with antici…_

_Cas’ cell dinged with a text message, asking for him to come to Dean’s locker, where he stood with an arm full of books._

_“Hey, man. Can you open that for me?” Dean asked, an innocent smile on his face._

_Cas worked the combination on the lock and opened the door, only to find a second picture of Tim Curry with Dean’s writing, spelling out “pation”._

_“Damn, Dean. I knew Cas was turning you,” Raphael sneered as he walked by, his nose still swollen and painful looking._

_“Yeah, Raph. I thought I could use a picture of your mom in my locker,” Dean said, grinning at him while Cas laughed. “Let’s go, Cas.”_

_“Laugh it up, queers!” Raphael yelled at their backs. “You won’t always have the damn janitor to save your asses!”_

_“All your talk about asses...you sure you’re straight?” Dean called back, then lifted his hand in a mock wave before flipping Raphael off._

Dean’s attention was drawn back to the present as he noticed Cas singing under his breath. Cas saw him looking and immediately stopped, his face reddening.

“It’s just a jump to the left,” Dean said, standing and pulling Cas up by the hand. “And then a step to the right!”

He stood behind Cas and guided him through the dance moves, both of them laughing loudly and singing the lyrics they knew by heart.

“With your hands on your hips, you bring your knees in tight!”

Dean realized where the lyrics were heading far too late, and though he and Cas kept singing and laughing, the familiar electricity pulsed through the room.

“But it’s the pelvic thrust, they really drive you insane!”

Dean barely moved his hips, not wanting to embarrass Cas, but they continued through the rest of the song anyway, singing and dancing like they were in high school again. Once the song was over, Cas and Dean collapsed, breathless, onto the couch. Cas’ cheeks were heated, and he looked more relaxed and alive than Dean had seen him in a long time, the smile still radiant on his face.

“I love your smile,” Dean said, the words slipping out, and he struggled to make them have less serious of a meaning. “I mean, I like it. A-a lot. It’s nice. It’s, it’s a nice smile. Yeah. That.”

Cas continued to beam.

“Eloquent, as always,” he said, and mercifully chose to ignore the comment that made Dean so uncomfortable.

By the end of the movie, Cas was dozing on the couch. Dean switched it off and stood, stretching his back until it popped loudly.

“I’m ready for bed. You?” Dean asked, and Cas nodded.

“Very much so.”

They went to their room, and pulled pajamas out of their closet. It wasn’t the first time they had changed in front of each other, even since they’d been soulmated, but Dean couldn’t help but notice certain things about Cas this time. His muscles in his back, whose origin still remained a mystery to Dean, were one thing. How did a boy who never did any physical activity get a body like that? Or a tan, or calf muscles? Or those adorable little dimples in his lower back…

“I think I may actually turn the air up a few degrees tonight,” Cas’ voice startled Dean out of his train of thought. “It was slightly chilly in here this morning. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Dean said, and he crawled into bed.

Even with the air fixed, Cas preferred for Dean to have the wall spot, just in case he got hot. Cas crawled in next to him, and both boys lay on their backs in the room, the only sound the occasional grunt of the air conditioner as it defrosted.

“Dean?” Cas said. “Thank you for what you said earlier.”

“About what?” Dean asked, turning to face Cas and talk to him better; Cas turned to face Dean as well.

“That you’re proud of me. No one but Mom has ever said that to me, and I want to make you proud.”

“Hell, Cas. You’ve made me proud since the day we met. Your poetry, your personality. I puff out like a peacock just because I can say I know you. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Cas thought his heart may explode. It was one thing to have Dean be proud of him for school. It was another entirely for Dean to appreciate Cas as he was, quirks and all.

“You are perfect,” Cas said, and he kissed Dean, who gently kissed back.

Dean threaded his fingers into Cas’ hair, and Cas slid his arm down and onto Dean’s back, holding him close. Then, for the first time, Cas gently licked at Dean’s lips with his tongue. Dean parted his lips immediately, and his own tongue met with Cas’. It was as though a fire had been lit in Dean’s stomach. He turned his head to deepen the kiss, and felt goosebumps erupt on his skin when Cas gave a barely perceptible moan, nearly a sigh. Cas snaked his hand under Dean’s shirt to brush his hand against the skin on his back.

Cas used his nails to lightly scrape up and down Dean’s back, and it was making Dean horny as hell. He abandoned Cas’ mouth and kissed his way down to his neck, sucking gently on his pulse point before moving further down to nibble gently on his clavicle. There, he discovered, was one spot that drove Cas insane: right in the center of his collarbone, in the dip where neck meets chest. 

“Dean,” Cas breathed, and his name spoken with that gravelly voice shot a pang of pure lust through Dean’s body. 

He worked his way back up to Cas’ mouth again, and Cas kissed him hungrily. Dean slowly slid his hand down Cas’ body, over his waist and over his hipbone, before dipping his fingers under the waistband of his pajama pants and grazing the skin there. Cas worked his hand down Dean’s body as well, his own fingers cupped around Dean’s waistband. It was only a matter of who would be brave enough to make the first move.

Cas nibbled at Dean’s lower lip, then pulled it into his mouth and sucked. That was all it took to make any doubts in Dean’s mind disappear.

He reached inside of Cas’ pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling him free, and wrapped his hand around Cas’ erection. This time, Cas’ moan was much louder, and he quickly grabbed onto Dean as well. Cas’ hand was warm and smooth, and Dean clenched his eyes tightly at the sensation, his hips rutting of their own accord. Dean worked his hand up and down on Cas, brushing his fingers over the slit and using that for lubricant. He sped up, and Cas matched his speed, causing both to break their kissing and begin to breathe heavily. The air between them was hot and thick, and Dean stared into Cas’ eyes, the blue almost obscured by the wide pupils. 

Cas moaned deep in his throat, his eyes closing momentarily, and Dean thought he could probably get off at the look of pure ecstasy on his face alone. Cas sped up his hand even more, causing Dean to thrust into his hand involuntarily.

“Ah…Cas,” he moaned, and Cas gave a small whimper at hearing his name. “Faster!”

Cas worked his hand quickly over Dean, and Dean curled his toes at the feeling. He moved his own hand over Cas in deliciously long, fast strokes.

“Don’t stop!” Cas said loudly.

Sweat was beading on Dean’s forehead, even in the cool room. He was nearly at the edge, just a little bit more. He thrust his hips wildly into Cas’ tight fist, and tightened his own hand slightly. The effect was immediate; Cas’ eyes widened and he pumped his hips once, twice more before coming in long spurts between them.

“Dean!” he moaned, his head falling back and breath heaving from his body.

Seeing Cas peak was all it took for Dean, and suddenly he was coming too, throbbing and pulsing with the power of his orgasm. He pulled Cas in for a sloppy, frenzied kiss that slowly calmed down as both of them rode out their orgasms together, finally pulling away and laying on their backs, breathing heavily.

“That…was,” Cas began, still panting.

“Freakin’ awesome,” Dean supplied.

“That’s what I was going to say,” Cas said.

“Somehow, I seriously doubt that, you poetic little shit,” Dean said, and both of them started laughing.

They laughed until their sides ached, calming down only to glance at each other and start up again. Finally, they managed to calm themselves enough to clean off and straighten their pajama pants. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and inhaled the fresh scent of his hair. He drifted off to sleep within minutes, but still managed to last longer than Cas, who had fallen asleep nearly the instant Dean had put his arms around him. Both boys slept on until morning, their sleep unburdened by dreams of any kind.

*

Dean awoke on Saturday to an empty bed. He momentarily panicked, afraid he’d scared Cas off, until he heard the low sound of a voice coming from the kitchen. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time to be barely past eight, but Dean dragged his legs off the side of the bed and went downstairs to join Cas. He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. Cas’ back was to him, and he was busy at the stove. Dean stood very still and quiet, because Cas was actually singing.

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday. Why she had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say. I said something wrong now I long for yesterday.”

Dean recognized the song, of course, but he also recognized the sadness in Cas’ voice. He crept up behind him and slipped his hands around his waist, causing Cas to stop singing and jump so badly he dropped his spatula.

“All these years, and I didn’t know you liked the Beatles,” Dean said, kissing him on the back of the neck, then releasing him to pick up the spatula.

Dean rinsed it and handed it to Cas, who was embarrassed, but still looked rather sad.

“It’s one of my favorite songs. Though, since Mom…you know, it’s taken on a different meaning.”

Cas’ eyes were downcast, staring unblinkingly at the bacon sizzling in front of him. Dean wanted to hug him and make everything better, or at least take his mind off of it. 

“So, the theater downtown is having a midnight showing of Captain America tonight. Why don’t we go? All those explosions? They’ll keep your brain off of anything you don’t want to think about.”

Cas nodded. He had made the mistake of opening his mother’s door that morning, and the smell of her perfume had wafted out into the hall, overwhelming his senses. He had been walking around in a daze ever since.

“Our first date? I think it sounds like an excellent idea,” Cas said.

Dean nearly choked. 

“Yeah, yeah. Date. Right.”

Dean and Cas ate breakfast together, and Dean left rather quickly to work on Baby. He shouldn’t be nervous about this. It was Cas, his best friend. His best friend who was admittedly hot as all hell in bed. Dean’s face heated up when he thought about the sounds Cas had made the night before, the way his name had sounded on those lips. He had actually messed around with another guy. And it had been good. Great, if he was being honest. It had been literally the sexiest thing he’d ever experienced. It took nearly pouring oil into the power steering reserve to bring Dean back to reality.

Dean tinkered with the car for most of the morning, coming in only to shower and eat a fast sandwich before he went to his room to read. Cas sat on the living room couch, absorbed in his copy of The Tin Man of Oz, so Dean swiped Cas’ copy of To Kill a Mockingbird and started in on it.

He knew already that it was much better than the movie. The characters were more in depth, the story made more sense. This wasn’t a story about a trial, as the movie had led him to believe. This was the story of racial inequality, told through the eyes of a child who was blind to it. Dean tore his eyes away long enough only to eat dinner with Cas, returning to his room to delve back into the tale of Jem and Scout, Boo, and Atticus. The next time he glanced at the clock, it was after ten.

Shit, he needed to get ready. He laid down his book, considerably further in than he thought he would be, and took a quick shower before shaving down to simple scruff. He thought it made him look older than he was, and he liked not having a baby face. When he came out of the shower, towel draped around himself, he realized he hadn’t seen Cas in hours.

“Cas?” he called.

“Yes?” a muffled voice answered him. 

Dean heard footsteps, and Cas opened the door to his mother’s room, where he was apparently getting ready himself.

“Dude, you really think that’s a good idea right now?” Dean asked, gesturing toward the room.

“I can't stay out forever,” Cas frowned.

“But it’s barely been any time at all. Is it too soon?” Dean pressed.

“If I let myself develop an aversion to coming in here now, then I will always have it. Are you done with the shower?”

“Yes, but-”

“Good. I’ll meet you downstairs at eleven.”

Dean walked into their room, bewildered at why Cas wouldn’t get ready with him in the room, and set to finding clothes to wear. It was more stressful than he anticipated; he wanted to look good, but he didn’t want Cas to think he was trying too hard. He finally settled for a pair of jeans (one of the few pairs he owned without any holes or stains), and a green plaid button-up shirt. He grabbed his socks and boots and went downstairs to wait for Cas.

He nervously paced, with no clear understanding of why, until he heard Cas’ voice call from the top of the stairs.

“Are you ready?” Cas asked, his footsteps echoing as he descended the stairs.

“Yeah, whenever you are-”

Dean’s response died in his throat. Cas looked better than he had ever seen him. He was wearing clothes that seemed to fit his body like they’d been tailored. His own jeans hugged his body in all the right places, and a white V-neck shirt showed off his toned physique. 

“Good. I’m ready for some explosions,” Cas said, and Dean recovered the ability to speak.

“It’s supposed to be good. I’ve got my house keys. Just lock the door behind you.”

Dean and Cas rode to the movie, all nervousness vanishing as they laughed and joked like they always had. Once at the theater, they grabbed seats in the back and waited patiently for the movie to begin.

“This floor is always so sticky,” Cas murmured into Dean’s ear, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

“Bodily fluids,” Dean joked, and Cas huffed out a laugh.

“Thanks, now I’ll want to wash my shoes in bleach when we get home,” Cas said even more quietly as the previews began to play on the screen.

“Think about it, Cas. God knows what your feet are in right now. Maybe some little swimmers are wiggling their way into your shoes right now.”

“ _Dean!_ ” Cas said, disgusted, and he was immediately hushed by the people nearest them. He whispered an apology.

“Germaphobic?” Dean asked softly into Cas' ear.

“You made me do that. Just wait. You’re going to wake up with permanent marker on your face,” Cas whispered.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Dean growled low in his throat.

“I guess we’ll see. You better be extra good to me,” Cas whispered back, eyes alight with humor.

Dean entwined his fingers into Cas’, and pressed a soft kiss on his temple.

“Good enough?”

“For now,” Cas said, and he and Dean were shushed again.

They settled back into their seats to watch the action on the screen.

*

“Did you see it explode? Just, bam! And Bucky!” Dean was full of energy as the movie let out.

“Yes, I was there,” Cas said, amused at Dean’s antics.

“I’m too pumped to go home right now. Want to go for a walk?” Dean asked.

“At this hour?” Cas questioned.

“It’ll be quiet. You can wear my button-up, I’ve got an undershirt on.”

Dean took off the shirt and handed it to Cas, who accepted its warmth happily. He and Dean walked down the deserted streets, listening to the quiet sounds of a warm summer evening. Cas reached his hand out and took Dean’s, and they walked in silence through the town park, dark and empty in the early morning hour.

“Thank you for a wonderful first date, Dean,” Cas said, then softly added. “I hope we have many more.”

“Me too,” Dean said quietly, and they smiled at each other. “I think we should go see all the Marvel movies.”

Cas nodded.

“Yes. And a Halloween showing of Rocky Horror.”

“That's not too long from now,” Dean said, squeezing Cas’ hand.

“I suppose my suggestion will come first then.”

“It’s a date,” Dean said.

“Well, what do we have here? The town fags out on their own?” a menacing voice said, and Dean turned toward the bench it had come from.

“Hello, Raphael,” he said coolly. “What are you doing out this time of night?”

It was a pointless question. The empty syringe on the seat next to him was a clear indication of exactly why Raphael was in the park in the middle of the night. Raphael stood and came closer to Dean and Cas, and Dean pulled Cas slightly behind him. He didn’t know what Raph had taken, but he wasn’t in his right mind.

“Look around, Winchester. I told you the ass-loving janitor wouldn’t always be there to save you,” Raphael moved his arm to rest on his leg, and Dean noticed the baseball bat in his hand for the first time.

“Come on, Raph, you don’t want to do anything. Go home, before you do something you’ll regret,” Dean said.

“Oh, I won’t regret this. I’ve wanted to beat this shit out of you since we were in high school. It’s what you deserve, running around with Cas. Abandoned by his dad is bad enough, but he’s a queer too?”

Dean’s anger pulsed through him, and he let go of Cas’ hand.

“I told you before, don’t say anything bad about Cas. He’s ten times the man you’ll ever be,” Dean hissed.

“I bet you’d know,” Raphael smirked, and Dean’s rage boiled over.

He swung at Raphael, but he was too slow and Raph dodged out of the way at the last second, swinging his baseball bat. It connected to Dean at the ribs, knocking him to the ground instantly.

“Dean!” Cas yelled, and he tried to come to his side.

Dean tried to yell a warning to him, but he didn’t have the air to get one out. Instead he watched, almost in slow motion, as Raphael swung his bat again. There was a sick, dull thud as it connected to Cas’ skull, and Dean could see Cas lose consciousness before his eyes. Blood was everywhere, on the bat, on the ground, on Cas.

Dean attempted to gulp in air, his body desperately needing it, but no air would come in. He was suffocating. He wanted to scream for help, wanted to rip Raphael to shreds, but more than anything he wanted to be sure Cas was alive. There was so much blood still pouring from his head. Dean watched in horror as Raphael raised his bat, meaning to hit Cas again. A sudden loud sound rang across the deserted park, and Dean’s vision finally faded to black.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean could hear voices like they were in a tunnel. He was vaguely aware of bright lights, bustling movement, and stabbing pain in his arms and sides. Occasionally, he would slip back into unconsciousness, the spinning of the room stopping for at least a few moments. Suddenly, or at least it felt like it to him anyway, he was still and on a bed, machines beeping to his side and his body aching like he had been run over by a truck.

“Hng,” he said, testing out his speech. 

“Dean!” a terrified voice said, and he focused on the face of his mother with difficulty.

She was pale, still in her nursing scrubs, and had deep bags under her eyes.

“M-mom?” Dean said thickly.

He registered the sunlight coming in through the blinds in his room. Except this wasn’t his room.

“Where am I?” he asked, confused.

“The hospital, sweetie. You’ve been asleep since Saturday night.”

“Saturday?” Dean asked, his mind still hazy.

“Yes, baby. It’s Monday.”

Saturday to Monday…what had happened? Had he been hurt? Wait…the movies. He’d been to a movie with Cas, then they went for a walk. Something else had happened. What was it?

Dean sat up straighter in bed, his sides giving a terrible ache and his IV pulling painfully, a look of sheer terror on his face.

“Where’s Cas?” he said loudly, and Mary’s face dropped.

“Lay down, Dean. You’ll pull out your drip,” she said, placing a hand on his chest and making him recline against the pillows.

“Mom. Where is he?” Dean said.

“He’s in the intensive care unit,” she said, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Cas was alive.

“Thank God,” Dean breathed out. “Has he asked about anything? Does he need anything?”

“He’s…he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“What do you mean?” Dean said, the fear returning.

“He took a serious blow to his head. His brain is swelling, and he hasn’t woken up yet. Don’t panic!” Mary said, holding Dean’s hand. “I’ve seen this before. Sometimes, the brain just needs to heal.”

“So he’ll be okay?” Dean asked, and Mary kissed his hand. 

“I don’t know yet. But we can hope so. They’re moving him to a recovery room today, out of the ICU. They may have already, actually. I’m going to get you out of this bed and make sure you can walk before I leave to do my shift. You took a beating as well.”

Mary helped Dean sit up gently, and he noticed the bandages around his ribs.

“What happened to me? I couldn’t breathe,” Dean frowned.

“Broken and fractured ribs. They were pressing on your lungs. You’re very lucky you and Cas made it here as fast as you did.”

Dean had finally managed to stand, and he teetered on the spot, holding the side of the bed as a crutch.

“How did we get here? And where is Raphael?”

“You came by ambulance, all three of you.”

“Three? I didn’t land a punch on Raph! But the next time I see him, I’m going to knock his teeth out.”

“He didn’t make it, sweetheart,” Mary said soothingly.

Dean was confused, and he paused in taking steps around the room.

“Nothing happened to him,” he said. “I couldn’t get to him, and Cas…Cas was hurt too bad.”

“You don’t remember anything? The ambulance ride? The phone call?” Mary asked, and Dean shook his head. “I’ve got a few minutes until my charge nurse comes looking for me. Sit down, you can walk just fine.”

Dean sat back on the bed carefully, and Mary sat in her chair.

“It was Meg,” she said.

“ _Meg_?” Dean asked. “I never saw her!”

“You did, you just don’t remember. Meg gave the report to the police. She said she’d followed Raphael to the park, knowing he was going to shoot up. She saw you arguing from across the street, saw him knock you down and hit Cas. Meg said Raphael was going to hit Cas again. That’s when she shot him.”

“Meg shot Raph? For _us_?” Dean couldn’t believe it.

“She did. Then she called an ambulance and gave you two basic care until they got there. Raphael was pronounced dead when he got here. Meg rode with you in the ambulance. She used your phone to call me and tell me what had happened, and was here when I got here. She gave you CPR, Dean, and applied pressure to Cas’ head wound. She likely saved your lives.”

Dean couldn’t find the words to say. He didn’t know Meg was capable of doing anything to help anyone.

“Is she in trouble?” Dean asked finally.

“She killed someone, sweetie. The police took her in for questioning and with her record, she was a familiar face. But they know she saved you. It looks like the only punishment she’ll get is for having a weapon without a permit. A slap on the wrist compared to what could happen. I have to go. I’ll be back in to check on you later, and I expect Sam will too. He hardly left your side until I made him go home and sleep.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“It’s what moms do. Love you,” Mary said, and she kissed Dean on the forehead before leaving the room.

Within minutes, another nurse had come to check on Dean.

“Can you walk?” she said in a soft southern accent.

“Yes, ma’am. Mom had me up,” Dean said.

“Knew she would,” the nurse said with a smile. “I’m Nurse Moseley, but you can call me Missouri, honey. Now get on up, let me see you with my own two eyes.”

Dean stood slowly and painfully, holding his IV cart with one hand to steady himself.

“Lookin’ good! You must have a healthy body. Not many people can recover that quick from such a bad injury.”

“Can I go see Cas?” Dean asked at once, and Missouri patted his shoulder.

“'Course you can. Let’s go,” she said, and they left the room.

Missouri stood close to Dean and talked to him as they left the corridor and turned down another hall.

“He ain’t far from you, now that we’ve moved him to his recovery room."

“How is he?” Dean asked.

“About the same. It takes a bit to recover from an injury like this.”

“But he will recover?” Dean pressed.

“I don’t know, sugar. I hope so,” Missouri said gently.

She pushed open the door at the end of the hall, and stood back to allow Dean to go in.

“I’m going to check on my other patients. Don’t you dare fall, or they’ll have my hide.”

Dean nodded and went into the double room. The patient on the opposite side of Cas had his curtain drawn, and Dean assumed he or she was asleep. He made his way to Cas, and was shocked by what he saw. 

Cas was hooked up to IV bags, monitors, and devices Dean couldn’t identify, even with a nurse as a mother. Worst of all was the way he looked; pale, his head bandaged, face still puffy and heavily bruised.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, lowering himself into a chair beside the bed with some effort. 

The boy didn’t move a muscle, the tubes continuing to do his breathing for him. Dean took his hand softly. Tears formed in his eyes, but he didn’t want to cry. Even though he knew Cas couldn’t see him, it still didn’t feel right.

“I’m here,” he whispered, not knowing why he was bothering to talk but unable to stop himself. “You’re going to be fine, I just know it. You’re a fighter. Always have been…I’m doing okay. I hurt like hell, but I guess that’s expected when you take a Louisville Slugger to the ribcage. Cas…wake up, please. For me.”

Cas didn’t move at all, and Dean sat back in the chair, still holding his hand. That’s the exact position he was in when Missouri came to take him back to his own room twenty minutes later.

“He looks so bad,” Dean said once they had left Cas’ room.

“He looks better than he did the night you two came in. And that’s a good thing,” Missouri said.

“He’s special, you know?” Dean added fondly. “I call him a poetic little shit all the time. He’s starting college soon for English and poetry, and I-I couldn’t be prouder of him. He’s the most talented poet I’ve ever seen. He bakes like a maniac, too. Best strawberry pie I’ve ever eaten.”

They had reached Dean’s room by now, but Dean couldn’t stop talking, the tears finally flowing.

“He hates germs and horror movies. He’s the reason I wear sunscreen, and he held my hand when I broke my arm in middle school. He wins at Mario Kart because he plays characters I always underestimate. His favorite color is green, which is stupid because it should be blue like his eyes.”

“Dean,” Missouri said quietly, but when Dean didn’t stop talking, she simply wrapped her arms around him.

“He says books are better than movies, and I swear he’s the only person I know who didn’t watch Harry Potter in theaters. He’s been my best friend since first grade. He’s my best friend, and I can’t go through life without him.”

Dean finally stopped talking, sobbing hard enough for his ribs to ache in their bandaging. Missouri stroked his back, humming softly until he had calmed down.

“It’s okay, baby. You love him, and I understand…you know, that roommate of his is awfully anti-social. He’d probably prefer a room alone, where he didn’t have to talk…maybe this one?” Missouri asked, and Dean looked confused. “Now, we’d have to have someplace to put you, of course. Maybe down in that room with Cas would work. That is, if you agree to be moved.”

“Yes, can we go now?” Dean asked, and Missouri chuckled.

“Let me speak with my charge nurse. You just lay down and relax a minute.”

Dean adjusted himself on the bed as Missouri bustled off. He felt as though he’d just emotionally heaved all his feelings up to the surface. Everything he enjoyed about Cas. Everything he _loved_. He realized in that moment that he loved every aspect of his best friend, from the quirks to the talents. He loved Cas. 

“Dean?” a scared voice said from the doorway.

“Sammy,” Dean said, and Sam rushed into the room, throwing his arms around Dean’s neck. “Whoa, kiddo, careful. I’m sore as all hell.”

“I thought you were going to die,” Sam said, voice muffled in Dean’s neck.

“Just some broken ribs, Sam. It takes more than that to kill your big brother.”

“They said you couldn’t breathe,” Sam said anxiously, pulling away to sit in a chair.

“Yeah, well, I’m fine now. See?” Dean took a deep breath, and though it hurt and he longed to cough, he didn’t, not wanting to scare Sam worse; it seemed to work, as Sam calmed considerably.

“And Cas,” Sam said, his face falling. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“He’s going to be fine, Sammy. Don’t worry. He’s a fighter.”

“Promise?” Sam asked.

In that moment, Sam wasn’t fourteen. Instead, Dean saw him as the wide eyed, innocent six year old he had been the day their dad had died. It took everything he had not to ruffle his hair.

“I promise.”

Sam gave a wide yawn.

“Have you slept?” Dean asked instantly.

“Would you?”

“Good point. Why don’t you head on home and get a few hours? I’ll be fine.”

“I think I will. I’ll come back this afternoon. Do you need anything?”

“Actually, could you pick up my book from my house? It’s called To Kill a Mockingbird. And get the Tin Woodman one for Cas. He’s going to want it when he wakes up.”

“Sure. I can try to sneak in some pie too,” Sam said.

“Mr. Winchester?” a scruffy man stood in the doorway, and Sam stilled, thinking he was in trouble.

“Yes?” Dean asked, and he came in the room.

“I’m Doctor Shurley. Nurse Moseley says she thinks it would be in your best interest to move you into Castiel Novak’s room.”

“It would be! Dean could make Cas wake up, I know it!” Sam said, and Dr. Shurley smiled.

“I think so too. We can move you now, if you’d like.”

“Please,” Dean said, and he heaved himself out of the bed.

Doctor Shurley gaped at him.

“That’s an incredible recovery, I must say. Most people with broken ribs can hardly move, especially as bad as yours are.”

“No offense, doc, but even if you’d amputated both my legs, I’d pull myself down the hall with my hands to get to Cas.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open at the unusually affectionate words coming from Dean. 

“Believe me when I say I understand. Let’s get you moved then,” Dr. Shurley said, and he helped Dean down the hall.

He had nothing with him except his clothes, bloodied as they were, and his wallet. Doctor Shurley grabbed the bag holding them himself, and led the way out of the room.

“Dean? I really don’t want to see Cas like that right now. Can I go home?” Sam asked.

“Of course you can. If you don’t want to come in this afternoon, just leave the books at the desk and I’ll come get them.”

“No, I think I’ll be okay then. I just need some time.”

“Got it,” Dean said, following Dr. Shurley. “See you in a few hours.”

Dean hobbled along behind the doctor into the room where Cas still lay in bed. The other bed was empty, curtains drawn back, and fresh sheets put on.

“Where’s Mr. Friendly?” Dean said.

“He’s in surgery for his appendix. We thought it best to change rooms while he’s in there, that way we can move him directly back to your old room for recovery.”

“Thank you,” Dean said, his eyes focusing on Cas.

“Are you sure this is what you want? It can be hard to watch a loved one go through something like this, and I am sure you know about his chances of recovery,” Dr. Shurley said worriedly.

“I don’t need to know percentages. If there’s any chance of recovery, that’s good enough for me.”

“Go ahead and get comfortable. I’m going to inject something that will help you sleep in your IV. You’ve been moving around quite enough for one day, and I don’t want to aggravate those injuries.”

Dean crawled into bed and Dr. Shurley injected a clear liquid into his drip. Within moments, Dean began to feel sleepy. 

“And you’ll wake me up if anything changes?” he asked in a thick voice.

“Instantly. Get some sleep, Dean. Your body has been through a difficult ordeal.”

Dean closed his eyes before the doctor had even left the room. He fell into a deep sleep soon after. When he awoke, it was to his mother straightening his blankets in the barely lit room.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” he murmured. 

“Shh, go back to sleep. It’s late,” she said, and Dean forced his eyes open.

“It was daylight a few minutes ago,” he said.

“You’ve been sleeping all day, sweetie. It’s almost eleven at night.”

Dean sat up better in the bed, wincing slightly at the pain in his side. He glanced across the room at Cas’ bed on instinct, and was surprised to see Sammy curled up in a set of chairs, too big for only one. Sam was holding Cas’ hand on the bed, sleeping soundly. Next to him, on the bedside table, sat the two books Dean had asked him to bring that morning.

“How’s Sam holding up?” Dean whispered to his mother.

“Better, now that you’re awake.”

“Any change in Cas?” he asked.

“No. But he hasn’t gotten worse either.”

Dean nodded. How was he going to pay for both of them staying in the hospital this long? He didn’t have insurance, and mechanics didn’t make much.

“Mom,” Dean suddenly realized. “What about my job?”

“Oh, that reminds me. Bobby dropped this by earlier.”

Mary pulled a card off Dean’s table and handed it to him. He read the get well message on the outside, then opened it to find a handwritten message from Bobby.

_Hope you feel better. Take your time healing up, your job will be waiting when you get back. The idiot filling in for you is killing me, so you better get well soon._

_Bobby_

“Nothing to worry about,” Mary said with a smile. “I think I’m going to take Sam home. He needs a good night’s sleep. Do you need me to come back?”

“Nah, I can handle it.”

“Okay. I’ll check on you before my shift tomorrow.”

Mary crossed the room to gently shake Sam awake.

“Mmf,” he complained.

“Get up, giant. Mom can’t carry you anymore,” Dean said, throwing a plastic cup at him.

“Good to have you back,” Sam mumbled, standing up and releasing Cas’ hand. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Sammy, take a day off. Spend some time with Jess, just relax. If anything happens, I’ll call you.”

Sam looked grateful through his exhaustion. Mary guided him to the door.

“Night, sweetheart. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Once the door closed behind them, Dean realized just how dark it was. He turned his bedside table light on and reached for his book. The room was filled the sounds of the various machines monitoring Dean and Cas’ bodies.

“Damn, dude. We’re really in some tough shit, huh?” Dean asked across the room. “I mean, you’re in it worse than I am. And Meg saved us! Can you believe that? She’s tried her best to screw with us for at least a month. More in your case. We owe her though.”

Dean glanced back over at Cas, his face a pale green by the light of the monitors, tubes running down his throat for God knows what medical reasons. 

“She gave me CPR. Kind of glad I was unconscious for that. I bet…I bet she tasted like cigarettes and regret,” Dean huffed out a laugh. “Looks like we need to do something nice for her when we’re back at home. Maybe you can make her a pie. You should probably make two, ‘cause I’ll eat one.”

The machines whizzed and puffed, pushing air into Cas’ lungs, and the blood pressure cuff whirred as it filled with air to check his vitals. The heart monitor beeped, it’s white arcs jumping on screen, and Dean tried to push down the fear he had from watching hospital dramas far too often; that the line would suddenly go flat, screeching out a single note to indicate its patient-

Dean shook his head. He refused to even consider the possibility.

“How about I read some of my book to you? I’ll start from the beginning. Don’t want you to miss out on anything.”

Dean read through the night, stopping only when nurses came in to check on him and fuss over him not being asleep. 

“I’ve slept for days! I just want to be awake!” he said back, and the nurses would roll their eyes.

He read for hours, his voice crackling and growing hoarse. He fell asleep the next morning, only after a nurse pumped more of the clear liquid into his IV drip, and read most of the day. Dean only stopped when his mother came to visit the following afternoon before her shift.

“You sound awful,” she said when Dean greeted her. “Do you need some cough drops?”

“I’d love some, but don’t leave yet. Maybe Missouri could bring them later.”

“I’ll ask her to. What’s wrong?” Mary asked.

“Mom…can you just give me a hug?” Dean asked, and he turned tear-filled green eyes toward his mother, who stood at once.

“Anytime, baby,” she said, and she held Dean as he clung to her.

Dean held her for as long as he could, Mary running her fingers through the back of his hair and talking in a low voice.

“Everything will work out. He’s held on this long, and that’s a good sign. You want me to cancel my shift today?” Mary asked, but Dean let go.

“No, really. I’m okay.”

“I’ll send Missouri with some cough drops. Use the call button if you need anything.”

Mary left to begin her rounds, and Missouri popped in again soon after, unsurprised to find Dean reading out loud to Cas.

“You wouldn’t need these drops if you’d stop talkin’ for a few hours.”

“I can’t,” Dean said, popping one into his mouth. “If I stop, then I have to think, and I don’t want to right now.”

Missouri was quiet for a moment.

“You know, my momma always made me tea with honey and whiskey when I had a sore throat. I know for a fact that Dr. Shurley is a fan of whiskey. It wouldn’t take much convincing to let me have a bit.”

Missouri was right; two hours later, she sneaked in with a steaming cup of the most alcohol-laden tea Dean had ever tasted. He sputtered through drinking it, and she left the room with a knowing wink. He had to admit, it did help, and he read to Cas whenever he wasn’t sleeping through most of the night and into the morning.

“Mr. Winchester!” Doctor Shurley said, sauntering into the room at seven the next morning. “I need to give you a once over, but if everything checks out, you can be discharged today.”

Doctor Shurley poked and prodded Dean, checked his bandaging, and pronounced him well on his way to recovery.

“We can’t really do much for ribs,” he said. “They aren’t like arms and legs; they’re not able to be set back. As long as you’re careful, you’ll heal fine. Just sign these papers, and you’ll be ready to go.”

Dean signed the small mountain of paperwork, and attempted to stand to move to a chair next to Cas’ bed.

“Where are you going?” Doctor Shurley asked. 

“I’m not a patient anymore,” Dean said. “I don’t want to take up a bed, and I’m not leaving Cas here alone.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. That’s why this room is going to be listed as filled until Mr. Novak is done using it, or we have some unforeseen emergency that requires that extra bed. You may stay and sleep in that bed as long as you wish.”

“Thank you,” Dean said. “Why, though?”

Doctor Shurley laughed.

“Well, it isn’t general procedure, but I don’t see it hurting anything. I think you know my husband,” Doctor Shurley said. “Bert Shurley? He’s the janitor at your old high school.”

“I didn’t know you were married to Bert! Hell of a guy,” Dean said.

“He is,” Doctor Shurley said, a peaceful look coming over his face. “And he told me all about you.”

“Only good stuff, I hope.”

“The first time he mentioned you, it was right after your broke another boy’s nose.”

“Yeah, the same one who tried to kill me. I’m not all that regretful about it,” Dean said.

“I heard of his injuries after another doctor pronounced his death. He wouldn’t have survived, even if he had made it here.”

“I hate that he’s dead. No matter how much of a dick he was, I didn’t want him to die,” Dean said.

“It’s a shame it had to come to this,” Doctor Shurley said. “I need to check on my other patients. You stay here as long as you want.”

“Thanks, Doctor Shurley,” Dean said, and the older man left the room.

Dean picked up his book and a pillow and hobbled over to the chair next to Cas’ bed. He threw the pillow in for some cushioning, then sat. Dean opened the book with his left hand, and reached his right out to hold Cas’ hand. He ran his thumb over it in soft circles, then raised it to plant a small, loving kiss on his palm.

“Alright, Cas. Where were we?” he asked, and began to read.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't as long, but I'll make up for that! I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer! Trigger warning for implied abuse, if you squint.

It was one in the morning on Thursday when Dean finished reading To Kill a Mockingbird. Cas lay on the bed, as still as ever, though thankfully missing the tubes down his throat; his body was once again capable of breathing on its own. Dean patted Cas’ hand absentmindedly, realizing he no longer had the book to fill the silence. Instead, he started talking.

“I should have read that when you did. No wonder you liked it so much. Dude, you _are_ Boo Radley. Well, Naomi more than you, but still. A social pariah, misunderstood by society. But underneath all that, brave, caring.”

Dean continued on, bolstered by the fact that he knew Cas probably couldn’t hear the confessions he was making.

“You’re just everything _good_ , you know? You’re pie, and poetry. Childhood memories. Cas…you have to wake up. Please, I’m begging you. We have a date in October, remember? You have to be there for that. Please.”

Cas didn’t move, and Dean dropped his head lightly onto the other boy’s arm.

“I spent my whole life falling for you. I’m not saying those three words unless you’re awake to hear them.”

Dean lay still, feeling the warmth of Cas’ skin on his face. A sudden movement caught his eye, and he turned his head to look.

Cas was moving his finger.

Dean shot straight up, ignoring the pain radiating down his body, and moved one hand to Cas’ face.

“Cas?” he whispered.

He held his breath, waiting for anything to happen. Slowly, Cas opened his eyes.

“Holy shit! Cas! Okay, stay here-well yeah, I mean, you can’t get up, so- I have to get the nurse. _Missouri_!” Dean bellowed, bolting out of the chair and into the hall, his broken ribs aching terribly. “Missouri! Get in here, Cas is awake!”

Missouri came running down the hall, along with Doctor Shurley, and all three ran into the room. Cas was staring wide-eyed, not saying a word, while the doctor and Missouri checked every vital sign. Cas was making some raspy, dry sounds as though trying to speak, and Missouri handed him a cup of water, with instructions to sip only a small bit, and very slowly. Cas did, and cleared his throat before his gravelly voice spoke a single word.

“Dean.”

“I’m right here, Cas,” Dean said, coming to his side instantly. “I know you’re confused, but just let Doctor Shurley and Missouri do whatever they need to, and I’ll explain everything in a minute.”

“Shurley?” Cas growled again. “Like Bert?”

“Jesus, you picked up on it faster than I did. Yeah, that’s Bert’s husband, Chuck Shurley.”

Doctor Shurley and Missouri ran countless tests on Cas, testing his reflexes, the feeling in his hands and feet, his vision, his coordination, and some things Dean didn't recognize. Finally, they concluded that, other than a massive headache and some muscle weakness from being in bed for so long, Cas was fine.

“You two must have quite a bit to talk about. Cas, you can’t take that pain medicine for another four hours, but if you start to hurt, push the call button. We’ll give you two some privacy,” Doctor Shurley said, and he and Missouri headed for the door.

Dean walked with them, thanking them repeatedly, stopping only when they were in the hall. Doctor Shurley wrung his hand, then set off to a page for him in the ICU. Missouri gave Dean a big hug, carefully avoiding his ribs.

“You boys have angels watching over you,” Missouri chuckled and shook her head. “Two of the most amazing recoveries I've ever seen.”

“Love can do all kinds of things,” Dean said, blushing at his own words as Missouri grinned widely. “Normally I’d never say that kind of crap, but nearly dying puts things in perspective.”

“Get back in there, boy. I’ll call your Mama, don’t worry about that.”

Dean thanked her and headed back into the dim room. He sat in the chair he’d become so accustomed to, and took Cas by the hand, happiness shooting through him when Cas gave it a weak squeeze.

“Dean,” Cas said finally. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?” Dean asked, and Cas closed his eyes briefly.

“Going to the movies, and going for a walk. Were we in an accident?” Cas asked, squinting.

“No, we ran into Raph at the park,” Dean said, and Cas’ eyes widened with realization.

“He hurt you!” Cas said anxiously. “I remember! He hit you with the baseball bat! Dean, are you okay?”

Cas frantically searched Dean over with his hands, pulling his shirt up to reveal the white bandages. His complete disregard for his own injuries, his concern over anything happening to Dean at all, made Dean’s heart beat faster, and it was all he could do not to scoop him up in his arms and never let go.

Instead, he clasped Cas’ hands and leaned down to kiss him gently, tears welling in his eyes.

“I’m fine, just some broken ribs. You were so hurt,” Dean said when he broke away. “Blood was everywhere. I thought I’d lost you. We didn't know if you’d ever wake up, and I was so scared.”

“I’m okay. I’m fine,” Cas said, holding Dean’s hand close.

“I didn't want to sleep, or think. I stayed up and read to you. We finished To Kill a Mockingbird right before you woke up.”

“You read me an entire book? How long have I been asleep?”

“Since Raph nearly killed you on Saturday night. It’s Thursday,” Dean said, wiping his eyes.

“I lost almost five days? What _happened_?” Cas asked.

Dean recounted the whole story. How Raphael had cracked Cas’ skull after breaking Dean’s ribs, how he’d been poised to deal a killing blow, and how Meg had saved their lives.

“She _saved_ us. Both of us. Is she in jail?” Cas asked.

“No. The police know about why she killed Raph. She’s only in trouble for the unlicensed gun, but Mom said they may even drop that since she turned it in.”

Cas lay back in the bed, raising a hand to his pounding head.

“We should do something good for her. Perhaps I should bake a pie.”

Dean chuckled and reached out to take Cas’ hand, caressing it gently.

“Can you put this rail down?” Cas asked, indicating the safety rail on the side of the bed.

“Yeah, shouldn't be too hard,” Dean said, and as he let it down, Cas moved over in the small bed, carefully arranging his IV line out of the way.

“Thank you. Will you lay with me?” Cas asked.

“Do you even have to ask?” Dean said, and he climbed into the bed next to Cas.

Cas took his free arm and placed it gingerly around Dean’s shoulder, and Dean nuzzled close into his chest.

“I missed you,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said immediately.

“God, don’t apologize,” Dean said, hugging Cas closer and trying to avoid hurting his own ribs any more than they already did. “I thought you were going to die. I promised Sam that you wouldn't, but I really thought you were.”

“I must have looked terrible,” Cas admitted.

“You did. Tubes everywhere. Hell, I don’t even know what some of the machines in here did. I’d stare at the heart monitor, thinking it was going to flatline any second. When I did sleep, it’s all I dreamed about. Me laying in that other bed, and you…gone.”

“But I’m here. Everything is okay. See?” Cas asked, and he brought his own lips to meet Dean’s in the blinking lights of the IV monitors. 

Dean melted into him. After the past few days, any touch from Cas was a blessing at all. He never wanted to let go. Never wanted to let _him_ go, ever again. When they broke apart, Dean drew in a deep breath and held onto Cas’ hand.

“I love you,” he said, barely above a whisper, and Cas smiled so brightly he nearly glowed in the darkness.

“I love you too,” Cas said, and he kissed Dean again, pulling him as close as he could without hurting either of them any worse.

When Missouri came in to check on them later, she found them both in Cas’ bed, fast asleep, and tangled so tightly together it was nearly impossible to tell where one boy began and the other ended. She checked Cas’ vitals quickly, then left them to their peace, closing the door quietly behind her as she left.

“Sleep well, boys,” she whispered.

*

Dean returned to work the following Monday, though Bobby forbid him to do anything more difficult that checking tire pressure and running the front desk.

“I broke a rib in the war, boy. Just one, and it had me outta commission for two weeks. Don’t give me any of that macho crap.”

Dean had met his temporary replacement, a young man by the name of Garth, who Bobby claimed to find irritating and grating. Still, he told Garth he wanted to hire him on full time, just because he was “short on help”. Dean smothered a smile at that; Bobby had all the help he needed. He just liked the guy.

Cas spent his days with Sam and Mary. Occasionally, Jess would stop by as well to bring puzzles, and once, a piece of homemade carrot cake. Missouri and Chuck stopped in to check on him, along with a handful of other nurses and doctors. Dean would come by immediately after work, showering in the small bathroom in the room, and spending the night sleeping at Cas’ side. 

“It’s like living in a dorm,” Dean joked one night, and Cas blanched.

“ _College_! I was supposed to have that paperwork in days ago-,”

“Breathe, Cas,” Dean said, toweling off his wet hair. “I turned that in for you already. Lincoln University called, and said you’re in. I registered you for your first classes, even ordered your books. You’re all set.”

“You did all that for me?”

“Well, yeah. I knew it was important to you. That made it important to me. Besides, come hell or high water, your poetic ass _is_ going to college.”

“Thank you,” Cas said.

“Chuck said they’re going to send you home tomorrow. I told Bobby, and he gave me the day off. Looks like it’s a three day weekend for me,” Dean said, throwing his shirt on.

“I’m ready to go home,” Cas admitted. “I want to sleep in my own bed.”

“I miss it too,” Dean said, and he crawled into the bed with Cas. 

“There’s nothing stopping you,” Cas said.

“Of course there is,” Dean said, his head resting on Cas’ chest. “I’m not leaving you for a second.”

Cas smiled and brushed his lips across Dean’s forehead. He closed his eyes while Dean told him about his day, both of them getting sleepier by the minute.

“Go to sleep, Dean,” Cas said.

“It’s been a long day,” Dean said. “All I want tonight is a kiss and some sleep.”

“I could do that every night for the rest of my life,” Cas said sleepily.

“Me too,” Dean said, and he settled against Cas as they both fell asleep.

*

Cas was barely in the door the next morning when he took a shower, threw his clothes into the washing machine, and set about to baking in the kitchen.

“Dude, not that I don’t love your pies, but you just got home. Relax,” Dean said.

“This isn't for you. I’m baking a chocolate pie for Meg, and we’re taking it to her as soon as it’s done.”

“You want to go today?” Dean asked.

“She saved my life, and more importantly, she saved yours,” Cas said fiercely, and Dean’s heart fluttered. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but Meg gave up everything for us.”

“She didn't go to jail, Cas. She'll be fine. I'm much more worried about making sure you don't overwork yourself,” Dean said.

“She killed Raphael. Her soulmate. You know how the spell works. She will never have another.”

“He wasn't that great to begin with, honestly,” Dean countered, and Cas turned to face him, his front covered in flour. “But you’re right. Get that thing done so we can go see her. We've got plans.”

Cas grinned widely and turned back to cooking the homemade crust and pudding. He hummed and sang while he worked, and Dean was happy to hear that Yesterday didn’t make a single appearance. Soon, the pie was done, and he let it cool while washing off and getting ready to go. Cas carried the warm dessert with a tea towel, and he and Cas drove the few miles to Meg’s house.

“You sure about this? She might not want to see us,” Dean pointed out as they stood on the steps.

“She certainly has that right. But give her a chance,” Cas said, and Dean knocked on the door.

Meg answered a moment later.

“Oh, shit,” she said as a greeting, and Dean and Cas exchanged glances. “Come in.”

She let Dean and Cas into the older home, and they sat in mismatched furniture in the living room.

“Glad to see you both up and alive,” she finally said, breaking the strained silence.

“Thanks to you,” Cas said, handing her the pie. She sat it on the table with a small smile.

“You didn't have to do it,” Dean said.

“You’d rather I let you and Cas die by some drugged up homophobe?” she asked.

“Just…thank you, Meg,” Dean answered.

“I couldn't let him do it. He talked about it all the time, you know. How you got off a ‘cheap shot’ back in high school. You embarrassed him, Dean, and he said he’d get you back. You and me, we haven’t always gotten along. Hell, in fact, there’s plenty of times I wanted to punch you in your pretty little face,” Meg smirked. “I wasn't going to stand there and let him kill two people though. It’s not like I’m worse off or anything. Raph was a terrible soulmate. Drugs, violence, the whole package. I’m better off without him.”

“But the soulmate spell,” Cas said. “He was your only chance. You threw it away to save us.”

“Okay, first off, I told Dean before: I don’t give a rat’s ass about soulmating. Second, Raph and I weren't going to work. I knew that the second I woke up there. We were never going to have love. Not like you and Dean do anyway.”

“Your connection was destined to fail,” Cas said, his face falling.

“Obviously. I may not be an angel, but I wasn't on the same level as Raphael. I did time in juvie for pulling a knife on a girl when she called my mom a whore. Raph shot up every chance he got. He was a ticking time bomb, and it was only a matter of time before he went off on someone. If it hadn't been you, then it would have been me, because I let him know from day one I wasn't going to take any of his shit. At least I didn't sell my soul to get out of my crappy soulmating. Destiny took care of that one for me.”

“And you’re sure you’ll be okay?” Cas asked, and Meg gave him a sad smile.

“Damn, Dean really lucked out getting you. I hope you know that,” Meg shot Dean a glance, and he nodded. “Now that’s about all the depressing crap I can handle for one day. We’re all alive, no one is going to jail. How about we taste this pie?”

They passed another hour or so chatting about former classmates and old stories, and Dean was surprised to find how easy it was to actually speak to Meg. Soon, he and Cas were heading back to their own house, looking forward to a day together and alone.

“That was actually kind of fun,” Dean said once they were back on the road.

“It really was,” Cas agreed. “She seemed much more…”

“Normal?” Dean suggested with a grin. “Yeah. Maybe saving lives changes something in you. Or killing someone. Both, probably.”

Cas and Dean made it home in time to eat a quick lunch on the couch before Dean sat a stack of DVDs on the table. Cas eyed them, though Dean had turned the titles away from him.

“What are those for?” he asked, but Dean just put the first one in and settled back onto the couch, his shoulders brushing Cas’.

A familiar logo was displayed on the screen. 

“I thought you didn't like Disney movies,” Cas said in a teasing voice.

“Well, I had this best friend growing up, and he loved them. These are his favorite Disney movies, and I want to watch them all.”

“Really?” Cas said, smiling. “Your best friend had a wonderful taste in movies. What happened to him when you both grew up?”

“It’s the craziest thing,” Dean said, a look of mock confusion on his face. “I fell in love with him.”

“When?” Cas asked, and though he was joking, he genuinely hoped to know the answer.

“I couldn't say. All my family said they've always known. Me though? I think it happened a little, every day, until it was just so big I couldn't ignore it anymore,” Dean said, and he blushed.

“Should I be jealous?” Cas shot back, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“I’d give you a smack in the head if you weren't injured. Enjoy your movie marathon, nerd.”

Dean settled back some more, and as the first movie wore on, his head drooped over until it was resting on Cas’ shoulder. Cas moved his arm around Dean to hold him closely, and Dean gladly moved forward to give him more room to rest it.

“First grade,” Cas said quietly.

“What?” Dean asked, raising his head.

“First grade,” Cas repeated. “That’s when I fell in love with you.”

“That’s when we met,” Dean said, grinning.

“Yes. Do you remember asking me what I wanted in my soulmate?” Dean nodded, looking confused. “I was describing you. In all the times I thought about the type of person I hoped for, it was always you, and I had no idea. I've been comparing people to you since the day we met. So, first grade.”

Dean kissed Cas, hoping to convey every emotion he felt in the action. He pulled away, and leaned his head back to Cas’ shoulder, watching the movie playing in front of him. Neither said a word, because no words were needed. Instead, they watched movie after movie together, kissing whenever the moment felt right. And it felt right often.

Cas glanced across the room, and at his coat, slung carelessly across the back of a chair. The box his mother had given him was still inside, unopened, in the coat pocket. He realized after all he’d been through, opening a small box was something he could handle. But not right now. Now, he wanted to wrap himself in everything about Dean.

The box would still be there in the morning.


	14. Chapter 14

“Cas! Come on, man, we’re going to be late!” Dean yelled up the stairs.

“They just live next door! I’ll be down in a minute!” Cas called back.

Two weeks had passed since Cas had come home from the hospital. It had been two weeks of a beautiful, wonderful routine. Weekends were spent lazily together, but weekdays were another story. Dean woke up in the morning for work, Cas made breakfast, Dean worked all day, and they met together in the evening for dinner. Sometimes, Dean even cooked. Tonight, however, Mary had invited them over and lured them into saying yes with promises of burgers (Cas’ guilty pleasure food) and homemade ice cream.

“Dude! What’s taking so long?” Dean asked, and he came into the bedroom, stopping short at the sight of Cas.

“I wanted to look nice. It’s your birthday dinner, after all,” Cas said, and Dean crossed the room in a few strides, wrapping him in his arms.

“You look perfect,” Dean answered him, because Cas really did. 

He was wearing one of Dean’s button up shirts, and had tried in vain to wear a tie. He fumbled with it repeatedly, and Dean reached up to place his hands on Cas’.

“You don’t have to wear this thing,” Dean said, and he tried to take it off; Cas swatted his hands away, though not before Dean managed to pull it free.

“I want to. I want to look put together,” Cas frowned.

“You could literally wear nothing and look put together,” Dean said, but Cas flushed. “I take it back. Don’t go around naked, or I might not be able to help myself.”

Dean felt his own face go red. Damn his mouth. He enjoyed what he and Cas had done. Sure, they had never gone farther than the first time they got their hands down each other’s pants, but that felt good as it was. He and Cas stuck mainly to hot and heavy make out sessions on the couch. It meant lots of alone time in the shower for Dean afterward, but he was just fine with that. Dean was afraid of pushing Cas too far, but he was also afraid of what going any farther would mean for his own sexuality. He loved Cas. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready for that yet.

Of course, there were moments when Cas was accidentally sexy. Dean clearly remembered the night they had been getting ready for bed, and Cas had kneeled on the corner of the mattress to pull off his shirt, pulling his undershirt along with it. Dean had felt a sudden urge to kiss and suck marks into his perfect hipbones, and move down, down, until he could slide Cas’ pants off and wrap his mouth around his hot-

“Dean? Can I have my tie back now?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, if you want it,” Dean said, trying to clear his head of the perfect picture now invading it. “But I’m telling you, man, you don’t need it. You look awesome.”

Cas took one look at the tie, then shook his head.

“Never mind, then. Let’s go.”

Dean and Cas walked over to Mary and Sam’s house, where they were happy to see Jess was joining them for dinner.

“Hey!” she said excitedly from the couch, and Sam and Mary welcomed them as well. “You two okay? You’re all red.”

“It’s a hot walk over here,” Dean said dismissively.

“It’s, like, ten feet from your door to ours. Dean, you seriously need to take better care of yourself,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“We can’t all have freaky metabolisms,” Dean shot back.

“Break it up. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes, and I don’t want arguing at the table,” Mary interjected.

“Can I help with anything?” Cas asked, but Mary shook her head.

“There’s nothing to do now except wait to eat,” she said.

“Awesome! How about I own you at Mario Kart, baby brother?” Dean teased.

“You’re on. I claim Jess,” Sam said, racing up the stairs, Dean right behind him.

“Yeah, well I get Cas!” Dean called after him.

“Apparently, we’re playing Mario Kart,” Cas said to Jess, and she rolled her eyes.

“Just take it easy on them. You know they think they’re better at it,” Jess said, and she and Cas followed the boys up to Dean’s room, where they had already turned the game on and had controllers sitting out.

Dean and Sam continued to trash talk, even though they were losing terribly. The only reason the two teams were so close was because Cas and Jess were evenly matched in skill and made up for what Dean and Sam lacked. 

“Ninth place!” Dean said, crossing over the finish line in the last race and laughing as Sam crossed over behind him. “You lose!”

“That’s only because you cheated!” Sam said back. “Two red shells, both at me? You _waited_ until you could do that!”

“Uh, yeah! What’s the point of this game if I can’t piss you off?” Dean said.

Jess and Cas, who had placed first and second, looked at each other and grinned, not saying a word.

“Sam? Can you come help me set the table?” Mary called from downstairs.

“Be right there!” Sam called, and he stood to go help his mother.

“You are not leaving me in here with Dean!” Jess said.

“What the hell, Jess?” Dean asked, slightly offended.

“I love beating you in Mario Kart every time, but you get super pissy when you realize it,” Jess said, and Dean’s eyes darted to the screen, realizing he had lost to her again.

“Dammit!” he said, and Jess leapt up, giggling.

“I’m coming too!” she called after Sam, and followed him down the stairs.

“I’m not that bad,” Dean mumbled, then noticed Cas had beaten him too. “Aw, come on, man! My own boyfriend?”

The words were out of his mouth before he even realized what he’d said. His eyes instantly darted to Cas, afraid he’d said the wrong thing. Instead, he found Cas grinning, wide and happy.

“Is there any chance you didn’t hear that?” Dean asked, but Cas just tilted his head.

“Your _boyfriend_?” he repeated. “I like that.”

Dean felt a wave of relief.

“Oh, is that so?” Dean said, free to joke again. “Why?”

His eyes widened when Cas kneeled and slowly moved one leg over Dean’s lap, until he was straddling him in the floor.

“Because,” Cas said, peppering kisses up and down Dean’s neck. “You are _mine_ , and I like that very much.”

Cas moved his hips slightly as he leaned down to kiss at Dean’s jawline, and even that tiny bit of friction set Dean’s heart to hammering madly in his chest. When Cas nipped slightly at his collarbone, Dean was barely even able to hold in his moan. Instead, he lifted Cas’ chin up and kissed him deeply. Dean threaded his hands through Cas’ dark hair and pulled on it with a gentle tug. Cas gave a small moan, almost inaudible, but it was the sexiest thing Dean had ever heard and his hips lurched upward spontaneously.

“Boys! Dinner!” Mary called from downstairs, and Dean and Cas broke apart.

They were breathing heavily, lips puffy from kissing and pupils wide with lust. Dean ran a hand through his own hair, trying to calm his heartbeat.

“Cas,” he said, not meaning for the name to come out as needy as it did. “You-you got to move off me, man. I can’t think straight.”

Cas immediately lurched to the side and sat on his knees.

“We’ll be right there!” Dean yelled back, and he stood to help Cas to his feet.

Dean straightened Cas’ clothes while Cas did the same for him, then they quickly smoothed their hair down and tried to shake off the remnants of the electricity that had just pulsed between them. Finally, they made their way downstairs, to a knowing look on Mary’s face and hushed giggles between Sam and Jess.

Cas took a seat next to Dean, and the family tucked into the burgers. It was as though Heaven itself had made them. Mary Winchester was many things, but she was also a phenomenal cook.

“These are amazing, Mom. Thanks,” Dean said, and Mary chose to take the compliment instead of telling her son to close his mouth when chewing.

“Thank you, sweetie. I figured we won’t see you much tomorrow, so may as well have dinner tonight.”

“He’ll just be next door. I mean, Cas already woke up here, so we know Dean will wake up there,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.

“And you’ll leave them both alone,” Mary said to him, and she grinned when Sam looked defensive. “Don’t give me the puppy dog eyes! Who do you think taught you to do that?” 

Dean wasn’t even paying attention; instead, he stuffed the last bite of his burger into his mouth and moaned in an over-the-top way. Even though it was meant to be for the food, Cas found he was picturing the sound happening during something else entirely, and was surprised at the instant reaction of his body. Cas swallowed. He didn’t think Dean wanted anything further. It was hard enough for him to admit his soulmate was actually his boyfriend, and there was no way Cas was going to push Dean to do anything he didn’t want to.

Dean, unaware of the internal struggle going on with Cas, stood to fix himself another burger. He loaded it up, tomatoes, lettuce, even some cucumber slices. All the things that Sam would say constituted a salad, but Dean would only eat layered on a big, juicy burger. He sat back down, burger in his plate, and tried to read Cas’ expression. He looked almost uncomfortable. Everyone else at the table was involved in a discussion of how short Sam should cut his hair, and Dean leaned in to speak to Cas.

“I say we shave his head while he sleeps,” Dean winked, and he placed his hand on Cas’ thigh to get his attention.

Except…except that wasn’t a thigh muscle. That was… _oh_. Dean drew his hand back and Cas blinked hard, looking resolutely at anywhere but Dean. Cas took another bite of his burger, red in the face, and said nothing.

Dean tried to get his mind off of what he had just accidentally touched. It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched Cas there before. They had lay in Cas’ bed once, rocking into each other’s hands. It was no big deal, right? But that had all been before. Before the hospital, before saying I love you. Now, emotions were attached to that kind of thing. Deep, serious emotions. The kind Dean didn’t like to think about if he could help it. 

Still, intrusive thoughts crept in. Dean could imagine laying in their own bed at night, Cas sprawled out under him, rocking together, whispering _I love you_ into the dark. Dean wondered if actual sex would feel as good as the hands had. Jesus, how did that even work? Would it feel good to grind his hips, filling Cas up? Or…or would it feel good to have Cas inside _him_? Moving, his warm body pressed against Dean’s…

“Want some cock?” Sam asked, and Dean snapped out of his daze.

“ _What_?” he asked loudly.

“I said, do you want some cake?” Sam asked again, looking at his brother with a perplexed expression.

Mary was standing in the doorway, holding a cake alight with candles and beaming.

“Yeah, I’d love some-some cake,” Dean said, and Mary sat it in front of him.

“Not until we sing,” she chided, and broke into a round of happy birthday with the whole room.

Dean watched the candles flicker on the cake as the song drew to a close.

“Make a wish!” Jess said excitedly.

Dean glanced around the table, looking at his family. His Mom, about to bounce on her heels with pride at her oldest son; Sammy, the brother he loved more than anything in the world, who looked so much like Mary when he smiled like that; Jess, who wasn’t blood but Dean would claim as family, because she had spent hours with him and Cas at the hospital during recovery, and made his brother happy; and Cas, who was meeting his eye again with a look of serenity, and made Dean feel complete.

He closed his eyes and blew out the candles.

*

Dean bent to put the leftover burgers in his and Cas’ fridge, and his stomach stretched painfully. He rubbed at it when he stood up.

“I think I ate too much,” he said, and Cas nodded.

“I agree. Four burgers was probably too much,” he glanced at Dean over the top of his book. “You should really get to bed. Tomorrow is going to be busy.”

“What? Why?” Dean asked, but all Cas would do was shrug. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going. ‘Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas said, and Dean sauntered to their room, stretching and groaning when his joints popped. 

Cas waited until he heard the deep breaths that indicated Dean was asleep before he let his eyes sweep across the room to where his coat sat, picked up and moved finally to the coat stand in the corner. Tonight was the night. He could feel it.

He had thought that opening the box his mother had given him would be simple. How hard could it be, really? He had survived Raphael’s attack. Compared to that, opening a simple gift should be, well, _simple_. Except that it wasn’t. Cas had tried. Oh, had he tried.

Every night after Dean had gone to bed for a solid week, Cas had crept to his jacket, hand slipping inside the pocket to feel the corners of the small box. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to open it. Something was stopping him, and he knew the moment wasn’t right to finally see what his mother wanted him to see. Because that’s what this fear came down to. Cas’ mother had given him a special gift at their last moment together, and Cas had given her a lie. He wasn’t worthy to open her present, to see the last gift she would ever give him, when he had lied to her.

Tonight felt different. There was a new energy strumming through the air, and Cas walked to the corner of the room and prodded his hand in the pocket of his faded tan trench coat to pull out the tiny box. Cas moved to the couch and sat quietly, working up the nerve to finally open the small box in his hands. It was quite light. He took a deep breath, and opened the lid.

His eyes scanned a note quickly, written in his mother’s elegant, looping handwriting, before they landed on the gift. Cas clenched his eyes, forcing away tears. He closed the lid of the box and put it softly back into the pocket of his coat. Then he brushed at his eyes and padded down the hall, intent on getting some sleep and willing the next day to come. His plans had suddenly changed.

Cas placed Naomi’s letter in a shoebox under the bed, and quickly changed into pajamas before climbing in next to Dean. He closed his eyes, the image of his mother and her words playing over repeatedly.

_Cas,_

_I thought you could use this, especially once you and Dean admit your love (which you will). Happy birthday. I love you, and I am so proud of the man you’ve become._

_Mom_

*

Dean awoke the next morning to an empty bed and the smell of pancakes and coffee wafting through the house. He followed the delicious scent to the kitchen, where Cas was humming along with the soft sound of the radio. Dean was surprised to see it was nearly ten.

“I slept in?” he asked, causing Cas to jump. “I never do that.”

“I thought today called for it,” Cas said, and he kissed him gently. “Happy birthday.”

“Lots of sleep and my favorite breakfast? Hell yes, it’s a happy birthday.”

Cas set the table and he and Dean sat down to share breakfast together.

“God, these are so good,” Dean said. “I’m glad I woke up here this morning.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him.

“You had doubts?” he asked.

“Well, no. Not really,” Dean answered, shrugging and digging in to his food.

In reality, Dean had been worrying about this for at least a week. He knew, logically, the spell worked both ways, but fear has a strange way of messing with a person’s mind. He dreamed almost nightly of waking up at someone else’s house and struggling to get back to Cas. In just the night before, he had been shocked awake by waking up at Jo’s, Meg’s, and even (Dean shuddered) Raphael’s. 

“You are a horrible liar,” Cas said, sipping his coffee. “But get dressed. We have a busy day.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but scarfed down his remaining breakfast and threw some clothes on. By the time he met Cas back downstairs, Cas was standing by the door, holding it open expectantly.

“Here,” he said, and he tossed Dean his car keys. “You’re driving, but I’m giving directions.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, giving a mock salute and heading for the car.

Cas locked up and followed him out the door, carrying a bag he had packed for the occasion. He gave Dean directions as they drove, and either Dean was being purposefully ignorant, or he truly didn’t recognize the way Cas was taking them. They drove contentedly for miles with Dean’s music blasting and Cas floating one arm out of the window in the breeze. Soon, they pulled onto a stretch of highway and Dean started to grin.

“I didn’t bring swim trunks,” Dean said when Cas noticed him.

“What do you think I brought a bag for? You need to change once we get there,” Cas said.

Minutes later, Dean and Cas pulled into a parking space and gazed out at the lake glistening below. Familiar faces glanced up at them when they made their way to the beach. Sam and Jess were laying by the water, absorbed in conversation. Anna was swimming laps in the beautiful water, her long red hair flowing behind her like some version of The Little Mermaid. Jo sat on the beach in a lawnchair, sprawled out on her stomach, and speaking with Meg, who lay on her own chair, face toward the sun.

“Oops! Surprise!” Jo yelled when she saw Dean.

“A surprise party? Awesome!” Dean said happily, and he greeted everyone in turn. 

The next few hours passed in sun and heat, the group alternating between swimming in the lake until they were cold and laying in the sun until they were hot. Cas had to apply sunscreen to Dean multiple times, and even twice on himself. Jo dragged an old grill out of her trunk at nearly three, and soon everyone was full, slightly sunburnt, and lazy. Dean found himself with Jo, and he helped her put the cooled grill back into her trunk.

“So, you okay with Meg being here?” he asked her quietly as they made their way back to the beach.

“Yeah, we’re okay. I don’t think we’ll ever be close, but she saved you and Cas. I forgave her for being a bitch, she forgave me for breaking her nose.”

“You going soft?” he asked, and Jo kicked sand at him.

“Not a damn chance. Hey!” Jo yelled at Sam, Jess, and Anna. “I got to get back home, so unless you’re planning on walking, get to my car.”

“Shotgun!” Sam yelled, sprinting.

“Anna rides shotgun. You two lovebirds get the back!” Jo called after him.

Anna and Jess carried the chairs back to the car, each wishing Dean a happy birthday as they left. Jo grabbed the spare towels, and kissed Dean on the cheek when she passed by again.

“Happy birthday. I know it’s going to be your best one ever,” Jo said quietly as she passed, and Dean appreciated that she knew he didn’t like to discuss feelings.

“Yeah, I think it will be,” Dean said, watching Cas, who was still talking to Meg as she packed up.

Jo and the others drove off, and Meg walked up to Dean.

“I’m out too. Happy birthday. I’m glad you’re here to see it.”

“Me too. Thanks, Meg,” Dean said, and Meg rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re thankful and all that shit. Just don’t make me have to save your ass again,” she patted him on the shoulder, and trekked back to her own car, yelling goodbye to Dean and Cas as she went.

Cas’ back was to Dean as he made his way down the beach toward him. As he neared, Cas turned around and handed Dean a fishing pole.

“You hate fishing,” Dean said.

“I’m finding I don’t hate much of anything anymore,” Cas said, casting sloppily into the water. “Maybe I just need someone to teach me.”

Dean cast his line out with a much more experienced throw. 

“Maybe it’s like the cell phone incident, huh? Got to learn from your mistakes?” Dean questioned.

“You do enjoy telling people that story,” Cas sighed.

_“Dude, just push the buttons,” Dean said, rolling his eyes while their bus rumbled to its field trip location. “It’s easy.”_

_“Mom said she programmed herself in as number one. I tried pushing one but nothing happened.”_

_“Let me see it,” Dean said, and he motioned for Cas to hand it over._

_Cas did, scowling slightly._

_“I’m an honors student. I highly doubt I cannot work a simple cell-”_

_“Cas, why are you calling the Casa Erotica line?” Dean asked, cell pressed to his ear and his face joyous._

_“I-what?” Cas asked, and yanked back the phone._

_Sure enough, it said a call had been ongoing since he had boarded the bus. Apparently, he had pocket dialed a sex hotline._

_“Mmm, baby, you’re so quiet. Is it too much for you to handle?” a woman’s voice said in his ear, and Cas blanched._

_Dean was doubled over in his seat, laughing at his friend’s mistake._

_“You-you called a sex hotline!” he wheezed, holding his sides. “On a p-prepaid cell! Holy shit!”_

_“It’s not funny, Dean! The voice says I’m almost out of minutes!” Cas said anxiously._

_Dean only laughed harder as Cas desperately ended the call, noticing he only had a few minutes left of airtime._

_“Here, just-just use mine to call. Jesus, you'll never live this down,” Dean said, wiping tears from his eyes and handing Cas his phone._

_Cas scowled, but took Dean’s phone to call his mother. She answered on the second ring, and Dean turned backwards in his bus seat to tell Jo and Anna about Cas’ mistake, speaking loudly and laughing so hard that tears streamed down his face._

_“Hi, Mom. Yes, it’s going well…what? No, that’s just Dean, he’s talking to Jo and Anna…no, no he didn’t say Casa Erotica. He said Casa…Coche. It’s where we had lunch…yes…yes, it is odd to name a restaurant Car House…maybe it’s like a road house…”_

Dean laughed until he had to sit down.

“You told her it was a _road house_? Oh my God!”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” Cas asked indignantly.

Cas’ pole suddenly bent forward, and he nearly dropped it in surprise.

“Reel it in!” Dean said excitedly, but Cas had no idea what to do. “No, lift the tip up, turn the handle-”

But Dean could see Cas was still slightly unsure on how to best reel the fish in. He stepped around behind him and placed his hands over Cas’, lifting the pole tip up and reeling in, careful to keep the slack out of the line. Once Cas had the general idea, Dean let go and let him take over, though he still stood with his arms around him.

Cas reeled in a bit more line, and a large bass came out of the water, hooked through its bottom jaw.

“Nice one!” Dean said, and he reached to remove the hook.

He grasped the fish in one hand and tried to hand it over to Cas, who lifted his hands and widened his eyes while he backed up slightly, clearly not interested.

“I have never caught a fish before,” he said, and Dean grinned.

“You didn’t have me for a teacher either,” Dean said, and he leaned in for a kiss.

Cas kissed him back, and suddenly Dean felt like he wasn’t close enough. He wanted more, he wanted _everything_. He pressed his one free hand into the small of Cas’ back and brought him closer, slipping his hands under the other boy’s loose t-shirt and grazing across the soft skin he felt there. Cas pushed tighter to him, his own hands working upward to hold onto muscled shoulders.

The bass gave an almighty flap in an attempt for freedom, smacking Dean and Cas hard in their sides. Dean’s ribs, still recovering from their damage, ached a bit from the sudden slap, but it drew their attention. Cas stepped back, flushing, and Dean bent to release the fish back into the water.

“I’m afraid we need to leave soon,” Cas said.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“I have another surprise for you.”

“Aw, dude, you don’t have to do anything else-,” Dean said.

“And another change of clothes.”

“Damn, how much crap can you fit in that bag?” Dean asked.

“Enough. Come with me.”

Dean and Cas made their way back to the car and changed out of their wet, sandy clothes into something slightly more put together. Dean tried to ignore the slope of Cas’ back, even though he was changing on the other side of the car. 

Once he and Cas were in the car, Cas gave him instructions on getting to the next location.

“I am _starving_ ,” Dean admitted when they were nearly at their destination.

“I thought you would be. Take this left. We’re nearly there.”

Dean found himself in the parking lot at Halmeoni’s. He was surprised when Cas spoke quietly with the old woman at the front, who smiled widely and took them to the back of the restaurant at a dimly lit booth. She and Cas spoke for another moment, and though Dean caught mainly English words, Cas would sometimes shoot him a sly look at whisper things to the old woman in Korean. The Korean woman pointed at Dean and asked Cas a question Dean didn’t catch. Cas nodded his head happily and looked at Dean with a peaceful expression.

“Naneun geuleul salang,” he said, and Dean looked confused.

“Since when do you speak Korean?” he asked, baffled.

“I just know some useful phrases,” Cas shrugged.

The old woman smiled at them both and came to Dean, swatting him on the head with a menu.

“You! You love him too?” she asked Dean, and Dean didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes, ma’am. I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if that Korean isn't quite right! In case you're wondering, naneun geuleul salang (나는 그를 사랑) means "I love him". Now...what could have possibly been in that box? You'll find out in the next chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

Dean and Cas sat at their table until well after dinner, talking happily, until Cas looked at his watch and saw it was past ten.

“We need to go,” Cas said. “They should have closed an hour ago.”

The old woman walked by their table, and Cas flagged her down.

“I’m sorry we stayed so late. If you would please give us our bill, we’ll be out in a few minutes,” Cas apologized.

“No bill,” the woman said, shaking her head.

“Oh, no ma’am. Thanks, but we have to pay-,” Dean began.

“I say _no_. You two in love. I know,” she said, a happy look on her face. “I be right back. You two stay here, okay?”

Dean and Cas nodded, bewildered, and the woman disappeared to the back. When she returned, she was half dragging a hobbled old man, who grumbled under his breath.

“Damn, Annie! I’m perfectly capable of walking!” he said.

“I thought your name was Jungtru?” Cas asked the woman, and the old man rolled his eyes.

“It is, but it was too damn hard for me to say when she popped up in my room back in ’57. I called her Annie, and it stuck. Now, what’s so important?”

“They soulmates,” Annie said happily, and the old man nodded. “Dean and Cas.”

“Nice to meet you, boys. I’m Eli. Annie tells me you two are wanting to pay your bill.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered.

“Well, you sure as hell ain’t going to. Get going, now. We need to lock up.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asked, but Eli set his face in an old-man frown so stereotypical that Dean nearly laughed.

“Did I stutter?”

“Thank you,” Cas said, knowing a lost battle when he saw one, and he offered his arm to Annie to help her to the door. 

Dean and Eli were close behind, and only once Annie and Cas started to say goodbye did Eli lean in to speak to Dean.

“You enjoy every second of that boy,” he said. “There’s nothing easy about it, but it’s worth every argument to see it through. He’s going to make you crazy, in good ways and bad.”

“Not planning on leaving her this late in the game, are you?” Dean joked.

“I don’t want to, but the doc said I don’t have much time. What’s he know, anyway?” Eli grunted and turned to look at Annie, love in his eyes. “I can tell you this, though, boy. It don’t matter if I go tomorrow, or ten years from now. My life has been full, all because she was in it.”

Dean swallowed. He understood.

“Did you two meet before you were soulmated?” Dean asked, and Eli snorted.

“Hell no. She popped in from halfway around the world. Let me tell you, trying to figure out what was going on when we didn’t speak the same language was an adventure.”

“She’s not from here? I’ve never heard of that happening before,” Dean said.

“I hadn’t either. I guess it’s rare. All I know is Annie and I must have been one hell of a pairing if the Big Man upstairs saw fit to bring us together across the world.”

Annie stood on her tiptoes and hugged Cas, then stepped back, putting her arm around Eli to help him to the car. Dean rushed forward to help, but Eli waved him off.

“You go on with your soulmate, kid. I got my angel already. And you,” Eli said, rounding on Cas. “You let people do good things for you sometimes. Good things _do_ happen.”

“Thank you, sir,” Cas said quietly. “You are very kind.”

“Hey, don’t get all emotional on me!” Eli waved his free arm, and Dean and Cas had walked back toward their own car when Eli’s voice rang out again. “You two better come back and see me!"

“You couldn’t keep us away!” Dean yelled back, and he chuckled as Eli yelled vague profanities back in his direction.

“He’s quite a character,” Cas said, opening his door.

“I like him.”

“We _should_ come back and visit him,” Cas said, and he and Dean both climbed in the car and closed the doors.

“Next Saturday sound good to you?” Dean asked.

“It’s a date.”

Cas and Dean drove back toward their hometown quietly. When they were nearly there, Cas motioned for Dean to take the next exit.

“Why? Aren’t we going home?” Dean asked, but he took the exit anyway.

“Not yet. We have one more place to go,” Cas said, and he noticed his hands were sweating nervously.

Cas gave driving instructions, one hand in his pocket around the small box from his mother. He knew it wasn’t much. The story behind it, though…that was the issue. Cas thought, for possibly the thousandth time, that this may be a mistake; that this birthday gift was simply too meaningful. Dean didn’t care for emotions, after all, and this certainly counted as emotional.

“The park?” Dean asked skeptically when they arrived. “Dude, our last trip to the park at night ended with both of us in the hospital, and the neighborhood jackass dead. You sure about this?”

“Positive. Walk with me?” Cas asked, and Dean reluctantly opened his door and followed Cas down the same path they had taken the night of the attack.

“Relax,” Cas said, and laced his fingers with Dean’s. “Nothing will happen.”

“I’m relaxed,” Dean said, though his eyes darted around in the darkness.

Soon, the boys reached the bench Raphael had been sitting at when he’d been shooting up.

“Sit down,” Cas said, and Dean gaped at him.

“Seriously? Okay, I don’t know what’s going on here, but-”

“Do you trust me?” Cas asked, tilting his head.

“Of course, man, I just-” Dean said.

“Then _sit_.”

Dean sat on the bench, and Cas sank down next to him, taking one hand in his and holding it tightly. Dean looked jumpy, but Cas was calm.

“What are we doing here?” Dean asked.

“If you avoid this place, the avoidance will fester and grow until it’s a phobia. I wanted to bring you here and show you it’s safe. I want to take every bad memory of yours and replace it with a good one.”

Dean flushed at that, and he rubbed awkwardly at his neck.

“Aw hell, Cas. That’s really- I mean, it’s-”

“I thought giving you your birthday present here would make it special,” Cas fumbled on.

He had to do this before he lost his nerve. What if Dean reacted badly? It was a touchy subject with him. Still, Cas reached into his pocket and pulled out the box. Dean eyed it, a mix of confusion and hopefulness in his expression.

“Mom gave me this for my birthday. I only opened it yesterday. I spent hours trying to work up the nerve, and I’m glad I did, because it’s the perfect thing to give to you.”

Cas handed the box over to Dean with a trembling hand. Dean took it warily, and slowly opened the lid to reveal the silver gift inside. His eyes widened with shock when he recognized what lay in his hand.

“Cas…this-this was _Dad’s_.”

Dean extracted the silver compass out of the box, his fingers grazing over the antique metal case, etched with flowers on the front. He had seen this compass countless times. John always took it with him on hunting trips, just in case. It had been in the family for as long as anyone could remember, and Dean felt a lump rise in his throat by holding it close. His father, he knew, had died with this in his possession.

“There’s more,” Cas said quietly. “Open it.”

Dean carefully pressed the latch release on the top, and the compass opened like an old pocket watch. Inside was the delicate calligraphy he remembered on the face, the arrow wiggling slightly as it pointed north. The inside of the case was different, however. Dean held the compass closer to his face. Something had been engraved there, and he squinted to read it by the glow of the dim streetlights.

_Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same._

“That’s from Wuthering Heights,” Dean said softly.

“I know,” Cas said with a small smile.

“We had to read it in the eighth grade. You and I would take turns reading it out loud…I remembered it better that way.”

Dean could easily remember the days spent at Cas’ house, sitting on the porch when it was warm enough, or in his room when it was chilly, reading the book that Dean had dreaded.

_“It’s so boring!” Dean said, sitting on Cas’ porch after school. “I mean, there’s no action in this. I need something to blow up. I keep trying to read it, and I zone out right away!”_

_“Not all literature can be like James Bond,” Cas said, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t we read it out loud? I promise, it’s a good story.”_

_Cas read the first chapter, and by the end, Dean was listening attentively, sprawled out on the porch on his stomach with his eyes watching Cas’ every move as he read. The words came alive when Cas said them. Dean could feel the emotion, the characters. Everything._

_Cas came to the end of the chapter and looked up at Dean, smiling._

_“Well?” he pressed._

_“I think the only hope I have for passing this class is reading with you.”_

_Cas laughed._

_“We’ll do it every day, then. You’re going to love this story,” Cas said, closing the book._

_“I think I will.”_

Dean shook his head. Wuthering Heights was still his favorite book, though he’d never admit it.

“Cas…when did you do this?”

“I didn’t. Mom must have before she gave it to me. I think it was her way of saying she knew we were going to fake it, but she also knew we wouldn’t have to pretend for long,” Cas said, dropping his eyes to the ground.

“You’re right. Damn, you’re _always_ right,” Dean said. “How did she get this thing anyway?”

“I’d say our mothers were in this together,” Cas said.

Dean stared down at the words etched into the ornate compass. He was thankful that Mary and Naomi had conspired to get it into Cas’ hands, and he was blown away with the kindness it took for Cas to give it to him instead of keeping his mother’s last gift for himself. It was difficult for Dean to remember his Dad in a positive way, though he desperately tried. Yet somehow, Cas had managed to make something painful into something good, just as he was doing with this stupid, ratty old park bench that addicts used to shoot up on.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Cas said seriously, and it was all Dean could take.

He pulled Cas into a kiss, weaving his hands through his hair and reveling in the feeling of having him close. Dean pulled back but kept one hand lightly on the side of Cas’ face, and Cas leaned into the touch.

“I love you,” Dean said, struck by how much he meant the words. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Cas said, and Dean felt as though his heart would burst.

Dean kissed Cas again, then stood and pulled him close to his chest, kissing him again. He wanted to run, to jump and scream that, _hell yes_ , he loved Cas, and Cas loved him back, and everything was right in the world. Instead, he opted to kiss him as many times as he could on their walk back to the car in the quiet evening, and held his hand tightly on the way home. Dean rubbed small circles in Cas’ hand as he maneuvered the car through the back roads of their quiet town.

“When we get back to our house, how about we marathon some movies on Netflix?” Dean asked, and Cas’ eyes grew wide. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

Cas shook his head and gave Dean’s hand a small squeeze.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever called it our home,” he said simply.

Dean snapped his mouth closed. He had often said things about going back to “the house”, even agreed when Cas mentioned going back “home”, but he had never called it _theirs_ before. His heart hammered madly in his chest at the concept of the house being theirs, together. 

He pulled over onto one of the deserted streets, halfway in the dark due to burned out streetlamps, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Cas looked questioningly at him before doing the same.

“Another walk?” Cas asked, confused.

“No. I just needed a minute. That’s some heavy shit you just said, you know that?” Dean questioned, running his hand through his hair.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Cas said. “If it makes you uncomfortable, forget I mentioned it.”

“That’s the thing,” Dean said, turning to face Cas. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It makes me pretty damn happy, if you want to know the truth.”

“Then why did you stop?” Cas asked.

“I can’t kiss you if I’m driving,” Dean said, and he leaned in to capture Cas’ mouth with his own.

Cas gasped out a bit in surprise, then closed his eyes and took in the sensation. Dean ran his tongue over Cas’ lips, and he opened his mouth to let Dean’s tongue in. The kiss grew heavy in an instant, and Dean was surprised when Cas pulled him backward until they were both sprawled out in the backseat of the Impala.

“More…room…”Cas huffed out between heated kisses.

Dean groaned in reply. He’d wanted this for so long. Hell, if he was able to think clearly, it was probably years. Of course, it was impossible to think clearly with Cas dragging his nails up his back and pulling his shirt over his head. Dean pulled at Cas’ shirt too, and once he shucked it off, he pressed Cas back down into the seat, climbing over top of him.

The feeling of overheated skin on skin was mind-blowingly sexy. Dean was laying on Cas at an awkward angle, one knee in the floorboard while the rest of him lay on Cas’ warm body. Cas sucked at Dean’s bottom lip, and Dean ground his hips into Cas’. He could feel the unmistakable line of Cas’ erection pushing against his jeans, and he pressed down again, taking his time with an agonizingly slow pull across Cas’ body.

Cas let out a sinful moan and rolled his hips upward. His hand slid down Dean’s body, across muscled chest and down his stomach, until his hand cupped over the bulge in Dean’s pants. Dean sucked in air and dropped his head down to Cas’ neck, sucking and biting into it while rocking into his hand. Dean moved his own hand to Cas’ arousal and began to slide it up and down, making Cas moan loudly. Cas thrust his hips against Dean’s hand, and Dean raised his head to kiss him deeply again. Cas caught Dean’s lower lip in his mouth and nibbled on it slightly before letting it go.

“Dean,” he said, voice wrecked and eyes half closed. “Take us home. Please.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Dean asked, and he began to move his hand before Cas caught it and pulled it back, thrusting upwards once again.

“No, but I want this to be special. Somewhere that isn’t the back of a car,” Cas said, hips continuing to move.

He slid his hand up Dean’s erection, playing with the head through the denim, and Dean rolled his hips in response. He leaned back in, and Cas bared his neck to give him clearer access.

“You better stop that,” Dean said, between kisses. “Because I’d be willing to do it on rusted nails right now if it meant you wouldn’t stop.”

Cas blew out a breath, the heat of it causing Dean’s body to erupt in goosebumps. “Sit up, then. I can wait until we get home. It’s not that far.”

Dean reluctantly sat up, and he and Cas moved back to the front of the car, not even bothering to put their shirts back on. Dean put the car back into drive, and he and Cas began the longest few miles of their lives. 

Cas lay his arm over the back of Dean’s chair, and used his blunt nails to scrape up the back of his neck, down his throat, and over his chest, before starting the whole process again. Dean managed to sit through two cycles of the warm fingers on his body before his hand found its way to Cas’ leg, and he slowly moved up his thigh until his hand was a mere inch away from where Cas desperately wanted it. Dean barely brushed the head with his finger, then smoothed his hand back down Cas’ leg, happy to see that Cas had been so distracted he had stopped his own teasing technique. It returned with vigor then, and both Dean and Cas tried to turn each other on more than the other could.

The car was filled with a heavy silence of unspoken promises. Dean couldn’t stop thinking about what he wanted to do to Cas as soon as he had him in the house. Hell, he doubted he’d even make it to the bedroom. Just strip him bare in the living room and throw him on the sofa, broken springs be damned. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts as he pulled in the driveway that he didn’t notice the man on the front porch.

“Who is that? It’s late,” Cas said, frowning, and Dean regretfully turned his attention away from Cas’ toned chest to see an older man sitting on their porch swing.

“No idea, but I hope he leaves soon,” Dean said, and he kissed Cas deeply before climbing out of the car, both shirts still laying abandoned in the backseat; Dean grabbed his as an afterthought to hide behind.

“Can we help you?” Dean asked, walking awkwardly to hide his obvious boner.

Cas came to a sudden stop beside Dean at the bottom of the porch stairs. He looked fearful.

“Fergus?” he asked, and the man beamed down at him.

“Now, now, Castiel. Is that any way to greet your father?”


	16. Chapter 16

“Your _dad_?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Yes, Dean. Meet Fergus Crowley…my father.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me,” Crowley said softly.

“I’ve seen pictures,” Cas said blandly.

The tension on the porch was the best mood killer Dean had ever experienced. He looked around, trying to avoid the staring contest Crowley and Cas were having on the porch. When it became apparent that Cas wasn’t going to say anything, Crowley spoke.

“How about we go inside? I’m a bit jet lagged, and we have much to discuss.”

Dean looked to Cas for approval. Begrudgingly, he nodded his head and unlocked the door to allow them all in. They sat uncomfortably in the living room, Dean and Cas on one sofa and Crowley in an armchair. Cas looked tense, and Dean placed one hand on his to let him know he was there. Crowley raised an eyebrow slightly, but said nothing.

“I came as soon as I heard about Naomi,” Crowley said, and Cas’ face flushed with anger.

“You never came before. And it has been weeks, just so you know,” Cas said.

“I live in Europe, son-”

“Don’t you _dare_ call me that,” Cas spat out.

Crowley sighed.

“I believe you are owed an explanation, Castiel. I didn’t leave your mother. Did she never tell you what happened?”

Cas narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and Dean instinctively kept silent, letting the pair hash out their differences.

“She told me how you didn’t want me, if that’s what you mean. She was a wonderful mother.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Crowley said, nodding. “I loved your mother. I woke up here, in her parents’ house, when I turned eighteen. Quite the surprise to go to sleep in one country and wake up in another, I can tell you that. We were…happy. Very happy. We found out she was pregnant not long after meeting…and then I was called back home to work.”

Crowley sighed, looking around the room with familiarity.

“I begged her to come, and she refused. She didn’t want to leave her home, which I understood. I told her I would be back home soon. I called her every night, wrote her letters, thought about her constantly. Every night, we spoke, and slowly, she began to speak less. She told me one night, about two months after I had left, that we must be a doomed pair. I begged her to listen to reason, that we were happy, but she told me there was someone else. A man she had met, whom she loved.”

Cas had gone exceptionally pale.

“No, that’s not true. There was never anyone else. I don’t remember any man in her life.”

“You wouldn’t, Castiel. The relationship did not last. I don’t believe you were even born yet before it ended. A whirlwind, which left your mother heartbroken. She called one night, asking me to take her back. I couldn’t. It hurt far too much. She was furious, saying that you would need a father. I begged her to still let me be in your life, and she refused.”

“You wanted me?” Cas asked quietly.

“Desperately, son. I called all the time. I sent birthday cards, I even came by often the first few years of your life, whenever I was in the states. She never let me in the door. We weren’t married, Castiel. I had no legal claim to see you with no marriage and a failed soulmate bond. And I’m sorry to say so, but I gave up. I thought it would be far less painful to sever ties, not think about you growing up without me.”

Cas clenched his eyes shut tightly, and Dean squeezed his hand.

“Why come back now? You could have come back when Cas turned eighteen and told him who you were,” Dean said.

“I didn’t want to introduce more pain, and honestly, I always loved Naomi…the thought of seeing her again was far too difficult.”

Crowley stood and came to kneel in front of Cas.

“I understand if you never want to see me again. It’s getting late, and I will leave you two alone. I thought I owed you an explanation.”

Crowley rose and headed to the front door. He was nearly there when Cas spoke.

“Where are you staying?” he asked, and Crowley turned around, surprised.

“The inn on Campbell Street,” he answered.

“You…you can stay here. How long will you in the states?” Cas asked.

“Not long,” Crowley answered. “Are you sure about this? I can leave to give you some space.”

“No,” Cas said. “I went years not knowing you. You can have mom’s room.”

“Th-thank you,” Crowley said. “Now boys, it’s been quite a long day. If it’s okay with you-?”

He motioned toward the stairs.

“Yes, please. We’ll get your things from the inn tomorrow,” Cas said, and Crowley climbed the stairs toward Naomi’s room.

“Thank you,” he said again, softly, before heading out of sight.

Cas leaned forward on the couch, head in his hands.

“You positive about this?” Dean asked quietly, once he heard the door to Naomi’s room close. “You know your mom, Cas. I don’t think she would have kept this a secret from you.”

“I don’t know,” Cas said honestly. “He seems genuine.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Dean said frowning. “We don’t know anything about him.”

“But he wants to get to know me,” Cas said.

“Cas, is this about…well, you know how you said he never wanted you. Could you be ignoring things just because he wants you now?”

Cas lifted his head to glare at Dean.

“I am perfectly capable of making decisions without emotions clouding them, as you should be aware.”

“Whoa, buddy. You have this thing about people not wanting you, and I-,” Dean began, but Cas’ anger flared up.

“We can’t all have a dad who loved us from the start, Dean. Even if John was an asshole, you at least knew he loved you,” Cas said.

“This isn’t about my dad! It’s about some stranger changing everything you knew about your mom! Who says you can trust him? What if he’s some liar, a con man telling you what you want to hear?” Dean asked, louder now.

“Don’t call him that! You don’t know him!” Cas said, standing.

“Neither do you! A real father would have stayed in your life!” Dean rose as well, and he and Cas bellowed at each other.

“What do you know about real fathers? If your dad hadn’t been such a homophobic idiot, we could have been together years ago!” Cas yelled.

“Yeah? How many guys did I date in my life, huh? _None!_ I was perfectly happy to have stayed your friend, and now I wish that I had!” Dean shouted, and Cas’ face fell.

Dean spun and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. Once on the porch, he took a deep breath. It had been a low thing to say, and he knew it. He didn’t want to go back inside. He needed a place to cool off, and give Cas time alone.

Dean made his way next door, pulling the spare key from its hiding place, and letting himself in. He stopped in the living room, heart pounding. Mary was sitting there, watching a late-night drama, a glass of wine in one hand and chocolate in the other.

“Dean? What’s wrong, baby?” she said.

“Cas and I, we had a fight. Can I stay over here tonight?” Dean asked.

“Of course you can,” Mary said, frowning. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, mom. Right now, I just really want to go to bed.”

“Sure. I’ll make some pancakes in the morning.”

Dean muttered a thank you, and climbed the stairs to his old room, collapsing on the bed as soon as he could reach it. Everything on him hurt, and not from recovering broken ribs or a day working at the garage. No, this hurt came from a deeper place, and it was worse than any physical pain he’d ever experienced.

*

When Dean awoke the next morning, it was to the smell of pancakes and eggs, and he was momentarily confused as to why he was in his old bed before he remembered the night before.

He groaned loudly, and Sam came into the room.

“Dean? What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Dean said gruffly.

“Fair enough, I guess. Mom made breakfast,” Sam said, and Dean followed him down the stairs.

He could tell Sam wanted to talk, and he changed the subject as quickly as possible when they entered the kitchen.

“So, how’s Jess?” he asked, and Sam’s face lit up.

“She’s great. I was wanting to take her somewhere today. We’ve officially been dating for one month.”

“Look at you, all sappy. How about I drive you two to the lake?” Dean asked, and Sam grinned.

“That would be awesome!” he said, and Mary sat plates of food in front of them, a slight frown on her face. 

“Dean, shouldn’t you speak to Cas?” she asked, and Dean stiffened.

“I need more time,” he said, ignoring Sam’s curious looks. “And he probably does too. Finish your breakfast and call Jess, Sasquatch. And lend me a pair of swim trunks.”

Sam, for his part, didn’t ask why Dean couldn’t go home and get his own. Instead, he ate quickly, and soon he and Dean were full, dressed, and on their way to pick up Jess.

*

Cas busied himself in the kitchen. He had seen Dean come and take his car, Sam in tow, and he hadn’t even come in to speak to him. Cas tried to push down the feelings growing in the pit of his stomach after their argument the night before. He whipped the eggs for his French toast vigorously, staring out the window, and didn’t even notice when Crowley came into the room.

“Good morning,” Crowley said, and Cas nearly dropped the bowl.

“Morning,” Cas said back. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved. Can I help?” Crowley asked.

“I can handle it.”

Cas went back to cooking, and tried to ignore the twinge in his chest.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Crowley asked finally.

“About what?” Cas answered.

“Come, now. You and Dean weren’t exactly quiet last night.”

Cas sighed, dipping bread into the egg mixture before setting it on a griddle.

“He’s not sure whether to trust you or not,” Cas said finally.

“As he should be,” Crowley shrugged. “I’m a complete stranger to him, after all. Maybe he’ll come around to the idea eventually. I’m assuming you two are together?”

Cas’ chest tightened, but Dean hadn’t actually ended the relationship. Or had he? He hadn’t been very clear about what he wanted.

“We’re soulmates,” Cas settled on, and Crowley hummed an agreement.

“Are you a happy pair? Because you did get rather loud last night.”

“I thought we were,” Cas said in a small voice.

“I thought Naomi and I were as well,” Crowley agreed. “Is Dean…like you?”

“I’m not gay, Fergus. I like men and women both. Dean…Dean has only ever been with females.”

“Ah,” Crowley said. “So you think Dean is unhappy with the situation?”

“I didn’t think so before…”

“Let me ask this then, son. If you went your whole life believing you were destined for college, only to be denied by every school the moment it came time to attend, would you happily accept your fate?”

“N-no, of course not. But what does that have to do with anything?” Cas asked.

“Dean’s entire life has been preparing him for a female soulmate. Now, he finds he can’t have one, and is to be soulmated with you instead. He’s bound to be unhappy about that. Yet you are his best friend, and I highly doubt he would hurt you by telling you. He’d rather go along with it to make you happy.”

“You think he would lie to make me happy?” Cas asked.

“Has he not been protecting you since the day you met?” Crowley asked, and Cas narrowed his eyes.

“How do you know about that?”

“Your mother would occasionally let things slip, even if by accident.”

Cas put their breakfasts on plates and sat at the table, shoulders drooping.

“What should I do?” he finally asked, and Crowley chewed his food while thinking.

“If you care about him, Castiel, let him have his freedom,” he said.

“He’ll be shunned,” Cas said immediately. “I can’t do that to him.”

“Not if you disappear. People think your bond is true. They won’t think you denied him. Come back with me, and we won’t tell anyone. We will tell those at home that your soulmate died, and you returned with me.”

“Just leave? Dean will worry," Cas said, not adding that he thought mere hours ago that he'd never leave Dean. "And what about the house? It’s been in the family for generations.”

“He may worry, but he will have his freedom. In time, he will be fine. As for the house, you can sign it over to me, and it will still technically be yours. Mine in name only, I assure you.”

Cas chewed on his lip, breakfast forgotten.

“I…I can’t,” he said finally.

“Ah,” Crowley said. “Then I’m afraid we have a problem.”

Cas jerked his head up to meet Crowley’s steely gaze.

“What do you mean?” Cas asked.

“You can either choose to go voluntarily, or I can make you disappear…for good.”

Cas felt his throat go dry.

“You…what?”

“You shouldn’t trust strangers, Castiel, even if I _am_ your father. This house, it was built by your great grandparents, and they spared no expense. Rumor has it they even stored their money in the walls…and I want this house,” Crowley said, his expression of cordiality remaining. “Come now, what is there for you here? A failing soulmate bond? No family? If you come with me, Dean won’t be shunned, and neither will you. I’ll even take you in, teach you the family business.”

"If you want this house, why not kill me and take it? What's stopping you?" Cas asked, fearful.

"Please. You _are_ my flesh and blood, and I have no wish to hurt you if I can help it. Sign over the house, we live happily ever after running the Family back home. Refuse, I forge your signature and, regretfully, kill you."

Cas thought over his limited options.

“You can promise that Dean will not be shunned? His status will remain intact?” Cas questioned, mind working fast.

“I can. I’m a criminal, not a liar,” Crowley said, contempt in his voice.

“Can you give me five minutes to grab some things?”

“Now _that_ is what I wanted to hear. Not much, now. We want it to look like you vanished.”

Cas nodded and jumped to his feet to hurry to his room. He grabbed a pen out of his desk and quickly scribbled a note to Dean. He had just placed it on the desk when Crowley walked in the room.

“You wrote him a note.”

“Of course not.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you son?” Crowley asked, and he snatched the note off the desk, eyes scanning it.

_Dylan Thomas, “Where We Met”_

“What is this, Castiel?”

Cas shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant way.

“An old note I made myself on one of my favorite poems. You ready to go, Dad?”

Crowley smiled in a self-satisfied way.

“Let’s get going. We can get to the airport in minutes. Do you have a passport, or should I forge one?”

“I’ve got it in my pocket. Let’s just go. It will be better for Dean that way.”

*

Dean drove back to the house a few hours later, exhausted. He and Sam dropped Jess off at her house, and Sam jumped in the passenger seat.

“So, you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Sam asked, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“No, so drop it.”

“Dude. You’ve been pissed off all day. What happened?” Sam asked, and Dean sighed.

“We had a stupid fight. His dad is back in his life, and I don’t trust him. I said stupid shit, so did Cas, and it led to a fight. End of story.”

“Yeah, so why did you sleep at our house last night then?” Sam pressed.

“I said something really stupid, and I regret it, okay? I told Cas that I wish we hadn’t been soulmated.”

“Dean!” Sam said loudly.

“I know, Sam! I said it was stupid. It’s not like he was an angel either.”

“It’s not a pissing contest! When you screw up, you admit it, and you fix it,” Sam said.

Dean groaned loudly.

“I know, I know. I just don’t know what to say,” Dean said, and he pulled in the driveway.

“You say you’re sorry, you’re a jackass, and you go from there. Have fun. I’ll tell mom where you are. And thanks for today,” Sam said, and he climbed out of the Impala.

Dean looked next door and was happy to see that Crowley’s car was gone. Maybe it meant he’d have some time alone with Cas to sort this out. He made his way into his and Cas’ house, plopping his keys on the table in the entrance way.

“Cas? You home?” Dean called, but there was no answer.

He took a quick look around the first level, then climbed the stairs. Perhaps Cas was in their room, ignoring his calling. Dean creaked open the old wooden door and glanced in, only to find the room was as neat as ever, and Cas was nowhere to be found. He sighed, and went in to change out of his swimming trunks and into real clothes.

Dean pillaged in his drawers for some shorts and a t-shirt, but something was wrong. He could feel it like a ghost of a hand on his neck; the hairs stood up and he began to get goosebumps. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake it, and struggled into his clothes as quickly as possible, glancing around the room as though expecting to see something out of the ordinary at any moment. 

His eyes landed on a scrap of paper with Cas’ neat handwriting scrawled across it. Curious, he picked it up and read the name. Dean’s brows furrowed in confusion. He remembered the poet Dylan Thomas from a talk with Cas from years ago.

_“Dude, I am telling you, poetry is all happy love and fluff crap. We’re going to spend a whole semester talking about roses and shit. You wait and see,” Dean complained, eying the schedule in his hands._

_“Why did you sign up for it?” Cas asked, and Dean flushed._

_“I need another English credit to get my advanced diploma, and the only chance I have of getting a good grade is to take the class with you. You understand this flowers and butterflies bullshit.”_

_“Not all poetry is happy, Dean. What about Dylan Thomas?” Cas asked._

_“I literally have no idea who that is.”_

_“He wrote some dark things,” Cas shrugged, and he sat his bookbag down on Dean’s porch._

_“Prove it,” Dean said. “Tell me something dark and menacing, and I’ll actually try in the class, I swear.”_

_Cas rolled his eyes, then closed them to concentrate. When he spoke, the words flowed out of his mouth elegantly._

_“Do not go gentle into that good night._  
 _Old age should burn and rave at close of day._  
 _Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”_

_Cas opened his eyes, and Dean stared him down warily. Cas grinned._

_“Looks like you’ll have to try in Mrs. Edwards’ class, won’t you?”_

Dean thought about the little scrap of paper in his hands. He didn’t know of any work by Dylan Thomas called “Where We Met”. He pulled up Google on his phone and did a quick search. It came back with the same answer. Dean paced the room. Cas was trying to tell him something, but what? He stopped walking. If he wanted an answer, he’d have to think like his literature-loving soulmate.

“Dammit, Cas,” he mumbled, and he thought about the poem. “Okay, so…do not go gentle…it means to fight. But fight what? Me? Or the soulmate bond or something?”

He moved on to the second line, hoping to have better luck.

“Old age should burn…so, maybe fight getting old? Fight against us aging? What do you mean, Cas?” Dean asked of thin air before moving on to the last line. “Rage against the dying of the night…like morning? Fight…don’t age…morning…”

None of that made any sense. Dean pressed his palm into his temple, imagining what Cas would say about the poem. He had called it dark…

_Shit._

Don’t go to death willingly! Was Cas in danger? Serious danger?

“But who's doing it, Cas? And where are you?” he asked out loud.

“‘Old men’…” Dean repeated from the poem, and he suddenly knew.

“Shit. Shit, shit,” Dean repeated like a mantra.

How did he find him? Where the hell was he? Dean looked at the paper again. Where We Met wasn’t an actual poem, it was a location. The playground. As for when, it was obviously the close of day. Dean glanced at his watch. He had no idea what was going on, how he would find Cas and Crowley, but his only clue was the playground at sundown.

Dean ran back downstairs and grabbed his keys. He didn’t know what to expect. All he knew was Cas had told him to be somewhere, and he sure as hell was going to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poetry credit to Dylan Thomas, a real person that you should certainly go look up if you liked the snippet included in this chapter!


	17. Chapter 17

“Castiel, I’m proud of you,” Crowley said, and Cas glanced up from staring out the airport window, watching as the afternoon faded into evening; it would be time soon.

“That’s all I could ever really ask for,” Cas said, forcing a smile.

“I mean it. Doing what’s best for Dean? Granted, I did threaten to kill you,” Crowley said, before waving off the idea as though it meant nothing. “Still, it takes a big heart to put his happiness before your own.”

Cas shrugged, worrying a screw in the seat with his hand until it popped off.

“I suppose.”

“It won’t hurt forever, lad. We’ll get home, get you started in the business, and everything will fall into place. In fact, I even know a young rogue named Balthazar, who’s a devil in bed. I’m quite sure he could make you forget Dean altogether.”

The thought of being with a stranger, betraying Dean, seared Cas to the core. He pasted an indifferent smile on his face as his and Crowley’s flight was called. Cas and Crowley rose immediately, and Cas quietly pocketed the screw before walking to the queue.

“This way, sir,” a polite TSA agent said, and Cas followed Crowley through a metal detector.

Crowley made it through fine, but the metal in Cas’ pocket set off the alarm. Crowley glanced back, eyes narrowing, but Cas shrugged.

“Forgot to take out my keys,” he said, and he placed them on the counter.

He stepped through again, and the alarm sounded. Crowley looked at him impatiently, and Cas waved him on.

“Go on, Dad. I’ll figure this out and be right there!” Cas called.

Crowley gave a curt nod and walked toward the gate, and Cas nearly cried in relief.

“Sir, I’m afraid we will need to search you more thoroughly,” the agent said, and Cas backed away, shaking his head as Crowley disappeared into the throng of people boarding the plane.

“No, it’s this screw in my pocket. I’m not getting on that flight. Do me a favor, though. If my ‘Dad’ comes looking for me, give this it to him,” Cas said, and he plopped the screw into the confused agent’s face.

Cas spun around quickly, and bolted from the airport as fast as he could. It was a mere five minute drive, but running would take longer. He had to get to Dean. It didn’t matter if Dean was lying, if he didn’t love him. All that mattered was keeping him safe.

*

Dean was about halfway to the park, fighting the sinking sun, when his phone rang. He picked it up immediately.

“Dean,” Mary said over the phone, her voice frantic. “Sam said Fergus is in town.”

“Yeah, dealing with it,” Dean said. “Cas left this message about where we met. I’m headed to the playground, hopefully to see him and Crowley, and figure out what’s going on.”

“No, don’t go until I call the police!” Mary said, and she yelled for Sam to call 911. 

“What? He’s got Cas!”

“Fergus is a criminal. Naomi kicked him out when she found out he was wanted in Ireland and England for organized crime. Hang on, I’ve got the police on the line-,” Mary said.

“No, Mom. I can’t wait for anyone. He needs me, and I’m going to be there. I love you,” Dean said, and he hung up the phone.

He made it to the playground in record time, slammed the car into park, and got out to immediately search for Cas. He kept quiet, not wanting to alert anyone else to where he was. He heard a rustle behind him, and swung around to defend himself, only to see Cas standing there, his face white and terrified.

“Cas!” Dean said, and he wrapped his arms around him while Cas buried his face in Dean’s neck. “What happened? Why are we here?”

“I ran,” Cas said. “I needed somewhere to meet you, to warn you. He wanted me to get on a plane. I told him I was going to go with him, but when he wasn’t looking, I ran. He’s dangerous, you were right about him.”

“Won’t he know you’re gone?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m certain he will. We need to get out of here, get to the police.”

“It’s okay. He can’t hurt you. I’m here,” Dean said, still holding tight.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” an accented voice said, and Dean and Cas broke apart in an instant to face Crowley. “Hello, boys. Castiel, had you really forgotten I knew where you met? And honestly, one quick look at the internet showed me the poem you were truly talking about. I must say, you _are_ clever. And a bit of a smartass as well, if the screw given to me by that touchy TSA agent is anything to go by. You’ll be quite the asset to our Family.”

“Who says I’m going?” Cas said, squaring his shoulders.

“You’ll go, lad, or I’ll shoot this boy right now,” Crowley said, and he waved an antique revolver at Dean. “Outdated, but accurate.”

Cas stepped immediately in front of Dean.

“You won’t _touch_ him,” Cas said, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

“You’ll risk your life for him? Last night he admitted he never wanted this! Never wanted _you!_ ” Crowley said vehemently. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Cas said simply. “He could never want me, and it doesn’t change the fact that he has always been my best friend, my everything. It doesn’t change that I love him.”

“Shame, that,” Crowley said, and he lifted the gun.

A shot rang out in the fading light, and Dean yelled, expecting Cas to fall. Cas frantically searched his body, but stood in place. He was unharmed. In front of them, however, Crowley had crumpled to the ground, holding his leg in pain. 

Within seconds, they were surrounded by officers and EMTs. One cop jerked Crowley roughly to his feet and kicked his weapon away, and the man gave a howl.

“Shut the hell up. Victor only hit your knee.”

The cops dragged Crowley to an ambulance, and several officers came over to check on Dean and Cas, Mary behind them, her face white.

“Are you okay? Is everything alright?” Mary asked frantically.

“We’re fine, Mom,” Dean said, but Mary led them to an ambulance to have them checked over while the police took their statements. Once the police were satisfied, and had begun to clear the scene, the EMTs gave Dean and Cas a clean bill of health. As soon as she heard, Mary smacked Dean roughly in the back of the head.

“I told you to wait!” she said, the fear still evident on her face.

“Would you have?” Dean countered, and Mary took the sarcasm in stride; she pulled both boys into her arms and hugged them tightly.

“Never, ever, let me hear of you two doing anything this stupid again.”

“It’s not like we did it on purpose,” Dean grumbled, but Mary just smiled.

“Can you two _please_ go the rest of the summer without nearly dying? I’ve had enough adventure,” Mary laughed, and finally let the boys go.

“No promises,” Dean said, smiling back at her.

He chanced a glance at Cas, and was surprised to see how stoic he looked. Mary noticed the way Dean was staring at Cas.

“I’m going to go home. I left Sam in the car, and he’s probably hungry…you two come over soon.”

Mary patted them on the shoulders and left.

“Damn, boys. Been through quite the summer, huh?” an officer stood in front of them, arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a quick glance at Cas. “We really have.”

“We’re arresting Crowley on aggravated assault, but he’s wanted basically everywhere for his ties to organized crime. He’s going away for life. You’ll never have to worry about him again,” the officer said.

“What about a trial?” Cas asked, and Dean could see the fear on his face at testifying against his father.

“I don’t think you’ll need to testify,” the officer said, and Cas visibly relaxed. “If that changes, I’ll be sure to let you know. Now, you boys get on home and get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” Dean and Cas said at once, and the officer grinned.

“You’re welcome. Between you and me,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially to whisper to them. “Crowley’s such a dick that I kind of enjoyed shooting him in the kneecap.”

Dean laughed, and even Cas managed a smile. The officer waved them off when his superior called him over, and Dean and Cas headed back to the Impala to drive home.

Cas was unusually silent on the drive. He thought about what his father had told him, and even though Crowley was a liar and a criminal, he had made sense. Dean was his best friend, after all, and it was entirely in his character to do whatever it took to make Cas happy, and forget about his own happiness. Cas stared out the window, complete unaware that beside him, Dean was fighting his own internal battle. 

Dean thought back to the playground, Cas standing in front of him, guarding him, even though he had walked out of their house only the night before. His face burned in shame at what he had put Cas through. 

Dean unlocked the door when they made it home, and Cas locked it behind them, still clearly not over his fear from the events of the day. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas said, and he walked toward the staircase.

“Cas, wait,” Dean said, and Cas turned back to face him hesitantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said last night.”

“You were honest,” Cas said simply. “You haven’t been with a male before, and Fergus said-”

“You’re going to believe the man who just pulled a gun on us?” Dean asked, and he walked forward to take Cas’ hand in his. “Please, believe me. I said something I didn’t mean. I was pissed. But Cas, what you said to Crowley back there…I love you too. You know that.”

A glimmer of hope appeared in Cas’ eyes.

“You aren’t just telling me that?” Cas asked.

“Hell no! Jesus, I’m glad Crowley wasn’t in your life if he messed you up this bad in a day. He’s a con man. Lying is what he does.”

Cas nodded, eyes bright.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Dean pressed into Cas, sealing his lips in a kiss. Cas kissed him back just as fervently, and Dean began to slowly walk them up the stairs toward their room. As they walked, they fumbled with buttons, pulled off shoes and socks, showing more and more skin, and by the time they reached the comfort of their bedroom, only their underwear remained.

“Dean, wait,” Cas said, gently pushing a hand against his chest. “Are you sure this is something you want?”

“I want _you_ , Cas. Every bit of you you’re willing to give.”

Cas seemed to melt under Dean’s gaze, and he dropped his hand to allow their bodies to touch again. Dean kissed Cas deeply, and ran his hands up and down Cas’ arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Cas shuddered slightly when Dean found his pulse point on his neck and began to gently suck at it, moving his hands down to rest at the band of Cas’ boxers. Cas hooked his fingers around Dean’s and gave a small tug, pleased when they slipped off and puddled around his ankles. Dean didn’t hesitate to pull Cas’ off too, and he gently pushed back until Cas thudded softly on the bed.

Cas lay sprawled out, lit only by the moonlight that spilled into their bedroom through the window, and Dean took a moment to commit the sight to memory. Cas averted his gaze and began to look uncomfortable. Dean instantly climbed onto the bed as well, straddling Cas’ waist and leaning over until his hands were on either side of Cas’ face. Cas met his stare with wide blue eyes.

“Don’t do that,” Dean said, kissing him softly. “You’re beautiful. I swear, you’re so perfect.”

Cas smiled widely and pulled Dean to him for a long, sweet kiss that soon turned into something more. Dean moved his hips to get closer to Cas, and when their hard arousals touched, Cas moaned into Dean’s mouth. Dean made a sound deep in the back of his throat, and moved again, hoping to elicit that same reaction. Cas didn’t disappoint. Soon, Dean was rolling his hips, and he and Cas were panting against each other.

“I want you inside of me,” Cas said into the heat between their mouths, and Dean moaned.

“I want to, but I don’t know what to do.”

“The desk drawer. Grab the bottle in it, and I’ll walk you through it. Please, Dean,” Cas said, clenching his jaw tightly as Dean gave another quick snap of his hips.

Dean reached over and grabbed the lube out of the drawer before returning to Cas.

“Sit up. You’ll have to open me up,” Cas said matter-of-factly, and Dean blanched.

“How the hell do you know? You’re a virgin!” he said, and Cas winked.

“The internet is wonderful. I learned this from the pizza man and the babysitter,” Cas replied, and Dean sat up, surprised.

Cas laughed at the look of shock on Dean’s face and sat up to kiss him again. He nearly climbed into his lap to move his body against Dean’s, causing him to moan loudly and push Cas back down on the bed.

“Show me how to do this. I want to, _now_ ,” Dean practically growled, and Cas didn’t hesitate to show him how to lube his fingers and begin moving them.

Minutes later, Cas was writhing on the bed, three of Dean’s fingers buried deep inside him. Dean was having trouble remembering his own name, listening to Cas moan and whine, and when Dean brushed against Cas’ prostate, he nearly bowed off the bed.

“Ah, Dean! Please, fuck me!” Cas said, and the sound of that word rolling off of Cas’ innocent lips like a plea hit Dean hard.

Dean poured some more lube onto himself, and lined up with Cas’ entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, he pressed in, with Cas whimpering and whispering encouragement to him the entire time. Finally, he was fully sheathed in Cas, though he was concerned about how Cas was doing.

“You okay?” he whispered, and Cas nodded furiously.

“Yes, please, just _move_ ,” he begged.

Dean bit back a moan longing to escape his mouth at hearing Cas beg for it. He slid out slightly, then pushed back in, causing Cas to release a long, sensual sigh. He repeated the motion, faster this time, and Cas bucked his hips to meet Dean’s thrust, causing him to rub across Cas’ prostate again.

“Faster,” Cas said breathlessly, and Dean picked up the pace, thrusting into Cas repeatedly.

Cas moaned loudly, and Dean thought he could finish just by hearing those sinful sounds escaping his mouth. He pounded faster, holding tightly to Cas’ thighs to steady himself, and getting lost in the lust-blown blue eyes staring back up at him. 

Something was building. Dean could feel it low in his stomach, could see it on the features of Cas’ face.

“Dean, I’m-I’m going to-,” Cas stuttered out, hips thrusting wildly.

“Come for me, Cas,” Dean said, and Cas eyes clenched tightly, his mouth going slack as he came hard, spurting over his stomach.

“Dean!” he moaned loudly, and hearing his name in that wrecked voice was all it took to put Dean over the edge.

Dean thrust into Cas once more before he was spilling inside of him. He pumped slowly, groaning out Cas’ name repeatedly, until he was spent.

He pulled out of Cas and collapsed onto the bed next to him. Cas lifted his head wearily and smiled at Dean in the darkness before curling up against him and throwing a blanket over top of their naked bodies.

Dean pulled Cas close to him and nuzzled into his hair, sighing when Cas placed a loving kiss on his collarbone. 

“You’re perfect, you know that? I’ll tell you every day until you believe me,” Dean said, eyes closed and beginning to drift into sleep.

“I believe I am to you,” Cas said, voice thick with sleep. “And that’s all that really matters.”

*

The alarm rang far too early the next morning, and Dean rolled over with a groan to turn it off. He rubbed at his eyes, Cas sitting up sleepily next to him.

“I think this is a good morning for coffee,” he said.

“Damn, never thought I’d dread going to Bobby’s garage, but I don’t want to move,” Dean said, and Cas stretched out on the bed, arms above his head. “And you’re making me want to stay in bed all day.”

Cas gave an impish grin and rolled over to lay on top of Dean and kiss him. Dean felt a shiver go up his spine at being naked with Cas. He pulled him into his lap so that Cas straddled his legs, and gave a small thrust upward. Cas bit his lip and closed his eyes.

“I want to, but you have to go to work,” Cas said, though he rolled his hips just the same.

“You have to let me up, you know,” Dean said, holding onto Cas’ hips as he thrust upward again.

“Ah…I suppose I do…”

Cas ground his hips again, his hardening arousal rubbing Dean’s. 

“Mmm…or, we could just do this instead,” Dean said, and he reached down to wrap his hand around them both.

Cas’ eyes widened as Dean began to move his hand, slowly at first, then picking up speed. His hips moved erratically on their own, and he had to steady himself to keep from bucking off of Dean altogether.

Dean’s eyes never left Cas’ as he worked them over. He loved watching the blue slowly get blown out by the black pupils, loved the look of desperation as Cas climbed higher and higher, wanting to fall over the edge.

Cas noticed Dean watching, and quirked an eyebrow. If he wanted a show, Cas would give him one. He began to rock his hips and moan obscenely, sometimes just sound and sometimes Dean’s name. Dean’s eyes widened at the view above him.

“C-Cas,” Dean said, and Cas knew he was close.

Cas took Dean’s other hand and brought it to his mouth. With his eyes never leaving Dean’s, he took one of Dean’s fingers into his mouth and sucked, moaning around it.

Dean practically exploded at the sensation, shooting onto his own chest and his hand. The warm liquid combined with Dean’s twitching, pulsing arousal finally threw Cas into the peak of pleasure, and he came too, Dean’s finger dropping from his mouth.

Dean released his hold, and both boys desperately tried to catch their breath. Dean looked over at the clock.

“Shit. I’ve got to go, or I’m going to be late,” he said, and although he didn’t want to, he rolled out from under Cas and rushed to the bathroom to clean off and get ready.

He met Cas downstairs, both of them fully dressed to prevent more delays, and Cas handed him a travel mug full of coffee and a bagged lunch.

“What, no breakfast?” Dean said with a wink, and Cas glowered at him. “Kidding! I’ll see you after work.”

“Be careful,” Cas said, and he leaned in to kiss him.

Dean kissed back enthusiastically, and Cas carded his fingers through the short hair on Dean’s head before nibbling at his bottom lip.

“None of that! Jesus, I created a monster,” Dean said, pulling back and kissing Cas softly on the forehead while the other boy smiled widely. 

Dean opened the door with is free hand and took a step outside before turning back to face Cas.

“Hey…I love you,” he said.

“I know. I love you too. Now go to work before I drag you back to bed,” Cas said.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Dean!” Cas said, and Dean laughed.

“Alright, I’m going. See you tonight.”

Dean made his way to his car and left, and Cas stared after him long after the car had turned at the end of the street. He had barely gotten back in the house when the phone rang.

“What did you forget?” Cas asked.

“Nothing. Just wanted to remind you we have a date on Saturday. Don’t make any plans,” Dean said.

“It’s just dinner at Halmeoni’s,” Cas said.

“The hell it is. That’s just part of it,” Dean said, a happiness in his voice that Cas loved to hear.

“What are you planning?” Cas asked suspiciously.

“Something as special as you are. Got to go. Bye, Cas!”

Dean hung up, and Cas stared at the phone in his hand, wondering how he could fall even more in love with Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have they finally gotten past the angst? What will this special date be like? We'll find out soon!


	18. Chapter 18

The rest of the week passed in a lazy, content haze. Dean worked his normal schedule at the garage, Cas worked around the house, and they shared dinner either alone or with Mary, Sam, and Jess at the Winchester’s house. 

“Got anything special planned for the weekend?” Bobby asked Dean on Friday afternoon.

Dean grinned widely.

“Hell yeah, I do.”

“Does it have anything to do with that boy you can’t stop talking about, and the hickey on the side of your neck?” Bobby asked in a gruff voice.

Dean’s hand immediately went to his neck, and Bobby actually managed a small laugh.

“I’m kidding,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Get on out of here.”

“It’s only two thirty,” Dean frowned, glancing at his watch.

“Yeah, it’s a slow day. Get home to Cas. Me and Garth can cover this,” Bobby said.

“We can what now?” Garth said, coming up behind them. “Oh, hey, Bobby. Weirdest thing, you know how you said to clean out the oil thingy on the car? Well, I did, but it wasn’t clean enough, so I poured soap down there to help-”

“Dammit, boy! What the hell were you thinking?” Bobby said, and Garth turned his big eyes on him.

“You said it better be clean, so I made it clean. But there’s bubbles everywhere.”

Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Dean tried to hide a grin behind his hand.

“You sure you don’t need me here?” Dean asked, and Bobby shook his head.

“No. Garth, you made this mess, you’re going to clean it. You have a good weekend, kid,” Bobby said, patting Dean on the shoulder and making his way to the sudsy, black mess in the middle of the garage.

Garth dropped his head slightly, and began to walk back toward the mess as well. Dean cursed himself for his newfound sensitive side.

“Hey, Garth,” he said, and Garth looked up at him with sad eyes. “Easy mistake to make, okay? You’re doing a great job around here.”

Garth smiled widely, his stance becoming more confident.

“Thanks, Dean! Have fun with Cas!” he said, and he sauntered after Bobby, day made.

Dean hopped in the Impala and drove home, wanting to surprise Cas with his early workday. When he pulled in the driveway, he was surprised to see Jo’s car parked there. Dean walked into the house to the smell of something sweet.

“Cas?” he called, and Cas yelled back from the kitchen.

“In here!”

Dean walked in, the smell much more pronounced. Jo was sitting at the table, a slice of homemade coffee cake in front of her, and a steaming mug of warm tea. Anna and Cas were busy at the stove. Anna pulled an angel food cake out of the oven while Cas stirred some sort of blueberry glaze concoction on the stove top.

“You’re home early,” Cas said over his shoulder.

“Bobby let me go. What the hell’s going on in here?” Dean asked.

“Your boyfriend is an awesome cook, that’s what,” Jo said, pointing her fork at him. “Even mom can’t make a coffee cake like this.”

“He’s perfect, but why are we baking?” Dean asked, still confused, and Cas’ face flushed.

“Birthdays need cake, but Anna couldn’t decide on just one. So I made both,” Cas said.

“Shit, that’s right. Happy birthday, Anna,” Dean said. “But what are you doing here? Didn’t you…”

Dean looked at Jo’s face, a wide smile playing on her face, and at Anna, who was more composed.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You two?” Dean asked, and Jo shrugged. “Whoa, whoa. I know how this damn thing works. How long?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jo asked, pretending she didn’t understand.

“Don’t give me that. How long have you two been a thing?” Dean pressed.

Anna sighed, sliding the cake onto a platter for Cas to drizzle the glaze onto.

“Since, what…eighth grade?” Anna asked, and Jo nodded.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you never told me? Anna, you even tried _dating_ Cas!” Dean said, looking between the two as though expecting one to say it was a joke.

“Have you met my parents?” Anna said, raising her eyebrows at Dean. “A preacher and a rabbi. Not exactly the most understanding of same-sex relationships.”

“Your attempts did always seem rather…forced,” Cas reasoned.

“Holy shit,” Dean said, hand going to his head. “That time in the locker rooms. I knew it was a lie.”

_“Dean? I left my purse back in the locker room. Will you get it? I need to go see Mr. Fitz,” Lisa said, her hand grazing up Dean’s arm as the last bell of the day rang._

_“Yeah, baby. Meet you behind the bleachers before the game?” Dean asked, and Lisa winked at him before walking off._

_Dean made his way back through the throngs of people until he reached the abandoned gym. He walked into the girl’s locker room and straight back to the locker where Lisa kept her things, on the side near the showers. He was secretly jealous of the showers in the girls locker room; due to him and Lisa meeting there after school several times a week, he knew they were vastly more sanitary than the men’s._

_A shower was running in the room, probably due to the school’s outdated water pipes. Dean was searching for Lisa’s purse in her crammed-full locker when he heard the shower cut off. Instinctively, he turned toward the sound, only to see Cas clad only in a small white towel, a look of confusion on his face._

_Dean felt himself go red instantly, and he looked anywhere except at his nearly naked friend standing in front of him._

_“Cas! Jesus, what the hell are you doing in here?” he asked loudly, and Cas’ eyebrows raised in confusion._

_“Showering. The hot water heater is messed up at home and Mom can’t get anyone to come fix it,” Cas said, and Dean felt terrible for raising his voice._

_“Just-just put some clothes on. And stop showering in this nasty place,” he said._

_“It’s better than the boys showers,” Cas said, shrugging._

_“Yeah, you got me there. Dude, come over after school until your Mom gets the heater fixed. You can shower at my place.”_

_Cas looked surprised._

_“You’d let me do that?” he asked._

_“Of course I would. Just get some clothes on. I’m done talking to my naked best friend,” Dean said, and he practically ran as he grabbed Lisa’s purse._

_He needed to get away, because those thoughts that had come into his brain weren’t right. He shouldn’t be thinking about Cas in that towel, water in his hair…he was only turned on because he was thinking about Lisa waiting behind the bleachers, right? That was it._

_Dean sighed in relief and nearly ran over Jo and Anna, who were walking into the locker room close together. They jumped apart, and Dean took a step back._

_“What are you two doing here?” he asked._

_“Getting-getting our stuff,” Jo said quickly, and Dean shook his head._

_“You don’t have gym this semester,” he said distractedly._

_“No, but-but we did a tryout for the track team last week. And Anna forgot…her socks.”_

_“Anna forgot her socks?” Dean repeated. “And you left them here for a week?”_

_“Yeah, I couldn’t remember where I put them,” Anna said, turning crimson around her ears._

_Dean was too put off by his own thoughts to register much about the situation at all._

_“You don’t want to go in here after school if you can help it. People make out in there all the time,” he said._

_“R-really? Good to know,” Anna said. “We better hurry then.”_

_“Yeah, me too. See you. Good luck with track,” Dean said, and he left to go meet Lisa behind the bleachers, where he kissed her until all images of Cas in his brain were washed away…mostly._

“Did you make the track team?” Cas asked seriously, and everyone else laughed.

“I’m not running unless something is behind me and hungry,” Jo said, taking a huge bite of her coffee cake and talking around it. “I can’t believe you fell for that, Dean.”

“I had other things on my mind,” Dean mused, and he caught Cas’ eye.

Cas sliced up the cakes and served each person. Jo happily ate her cake, and though Dean wished Cas had made a pie as well, he had to admit that everything was delicious.

“So, how’d Ellen take it?” Dean asked Jo once everyone was eating, and Cas and Anna were absorbed in conversation about college.

Jo shrugged.

“She basically said she’d always known, but didn’t say anything. I can’t believe it. I’ve faked interest in other people for years.”

“Yeah, about that,” Dean said. “I thought you had a crush on me?”

Jo looked embarrassed.

“You’re amazing, Dean. Really. And I did have a crush on you when we were young kids. But I met Anna, and…well, you know how it goes.”

“I do, yeah,” Dean said with a half-glance toward Cas.

“I had to play my part. If her parents had found out, they would’ve kicked her out.”

“So how are they taking it?” Dean asked, and Jo rolled her eyes.

“Not that great, but they’re coming around. The benefit of them being a priest and a rabbi is, they both know it was a higher power that chose us. They can’t argue with that.”

The group finished their cake and spent an hour or so chatting around the table before Jo and Anna announced they had to leave. Cas packed them leftovers, and they climbed into Jo’s car, waving as they backed out of the driveway and headed back to Jo’s house.

“Should have seen that coming a mile away,” Dean said when he and Cas were back inside. “Everyone could see it with us, why not them?”

“Probably because they admitted it and never fought it like we did,” Cas said simply, sinking onto the ratted couch with Dean next to him.

“We were stupid as hell.”

“Maybe,” Cas said, and he dropped his head onto Dean’s shoulder. “But we still ended up exactly where we needed to be.”

*

Dean woke up before the alarm the next morning, and set about making breakfast. He was about to call Cas down to eat when he heard the familiar padding of his feet come into the kitchen.

“You cooked?” Cas asked skeptically, looking around the kitchen.

“You’re welcome,” Dean said in a teasing tone. “Everything is still in one piece, Martha Stewart.”

Cas frowned and sat in a chair.

“Who?” he asked, and Dean rolled his eyes as he placed a plate of French toast in front of him.

“It doesn’t matter. Eat your breakfast, we have to leave soon.”

Cas and Dean ate quickly, then loaded into Dean’s car to head onto the highway.

“Where are we going?” Cas asked.

“Lincoln,” Dean answered evasively.

“I thought our dinner date wasn’t until tonight?” Cas asked, but Dean just grinned.

“It isn’t.”

Dean turned the radio up, hoping to avoid giving anything away, and Cas sat in a contemplative silence on the way to Lincoln. Soon, they were pulling into a small parking lot in front of a plain brick building. Dean smiled widely and jumped out of the car, grabbing a duffel bag from the backseat, and Cas followed close behind. He stopped at the door to look back at Cas.

“You remember how you made me watch Mulan?” Dean asked, and Cas was thrown by the sudden question.

“Yes?” he answered, confused.

“Well, that damn movie was the reason we finally got our heads out of our asses and got together. And it’s one of your favorites. I thought maybe we could use that today,” Dean said, and Cas furrowed his brow.

“How-?” Cas began to ask, but the question died in his throat when Dean swung open the door to reveal an actual karate class. “Dean…is this…what _is_ this?”

“Dude, you were practically swinging your arms to fight with them in the movie. I thought we’d learn some stuff. We’re up next, in a basic introductory class.”

Cas glanced down at his clothes.

“I can't really wear jeans here,” he said, but Dean just held up his duffel bag and looked up at a sign. 

“The changing rooms are down that hall.”

Dean and Cas made a quick detour to change into sweatpants and t-shirts. By the time they returned, the previous class had ended, and a smattering of children had gathered on the practice floor.

“Um…Dean?” Cas asked, but Dean looked just as confused as he was.

“Come over, fellas! Grab a place in the back there. Welcome to introductory karate!” an athletic man said from the front of the room. “We’ll begin with warmups…”

Dean and Cas took a place by the back wall, and several curious faces turned to look at them. Cas waved at one little girl, who promptly giggled and turned back to the front.

“There’s no one here over five,” Dean whispered to Cas.

“Come on, now! Just follow Julia in front of you, boys. She’s a pro!” the instructor said, and the small girl from before turned to smile at the boys.

Cas moved awkwardly, trying to copy the instructor, but Dean leaned down to whisper to Julia.

“Think you can teach me? I’m new,” he said.

Julia nodded and giggled, and came to stand in front of Dean. She showed him how to move his arms and legs, and when the lesson moved on to actual moves, she helped him with those as well. By the end of the class, Dean and Cas were both sweaty, though Dean had progressed much farther than Cas.

“How are you so good at this?” Cas asked, winded even after the cool down.

“I had an expert teacher,” Dean said, and he winked at Julia. 

The girl giggled, and Dean gave her a high five. She ran off into the crowd, and Dean stretched his back until it popped.

“Seriously, the kid’s a natural. She could probably already kick my ass,” Dean said.

“That’s why she’s here,” a female voice said, and Dean looked over to see a dark headed woman with Julia in her arms. “Hi! I’m Pam Barnes. And you are?”

“Dean Winchester. And this guy who sounds like he’s suddenly asthmatic is Cas, my boyfriend.”

Cas glared at Dean playfully, and he stuck his hand out to shake Pam’s.

“Not used to this, huh?” Pam asked kindly.

“Our first time,” Cas answered.

“If you keep coming, maybe you’ll get to be with the grown-ups soon,” Pam joked, and Dean already liked her.

“That’s some kid you’ve got there,” Dean said, poking Julia in the bottom of her foot until she laughed.

“She’s a hellion, I can tell you that. She told me I had to come meet the ‘new guys’, and that you need all the help you can get.”

“You know karate?” Dean asked, and Pam laughed.

“Black belt,” she said proudly. “You two should come back sometime. I’ve got to run, but it was nice to meet you, Dean and Wheezy.”

Dean laughed as she walked off, and Cas took a deep breath.

“I am not wheezing,” he said indignantly, which made Dean laugh harder.

“I like her. We should come back,” Dean said, and he and Cas walked to the changing rooms to get out of their sweaty clothes. “It could be fun.”

Cas thought about it for a moment.

“Agreed. But next time, Julia is my instructor.”

*

Dean and Cas ate a quick lunch at a burger place before Dean dragged Cas downtown. He parked the car and he and Cas took to walking the bustling streets. Lincoln was huge, and Dean took in the sights and sounds of the busy city. Soon, he was pulling Cas into a small shop on a side street.

“What’s all this?” Cas asked, looking around.

“This is a Korean sijang.”

Cas’ eyes widened in surprise at hearing Dean speak a foreign language, even if it was just one word.

“A market,” Cas said, and he looked around in awe.

“You love Korean food, and you love to cook. I thought both together would be even more special.”

Cas kissed Dean gently, and sat about to packing a handcart full.

*

An hour later, Dean and Cas had paid and loaded their supplies into the back of the Impala in a cooler Dean had brought along. Dean looked down at the food and shook his head. There were several kinds of noodles, frozen mochi cakes, Pepero sticks, wasabi peas, seasoned seaweed in tiny packets, spices for kimchi, and even a small pack of freeze-dried guppies, among other things.

“How do you even know what this stuff is?” Dean asked Cas, who had plopped into the seat with a packet of rice candy and was munching away happily.

“I don’t know all of it. Mom worked with a Korean lady, and her grandma babysat me when I was little. I picked up some Korean and a taste for the food,” Cas shrugged, and offered Dean a candy.

“How much Korean are we talking about here?” Dean asked, curious, and he popped the candy into his mouth.

Cas paused a moment, chewing his candy thoughtfully.

“Naneun yaggan-ui hangug-eoleul,” he said, and Dean’s eyes widened.

“How did I not know this already?” Dean asked.

“It’s never really come up in conversation,” Cas said honestly, but he noticed Dean looked slightly upset. “Dean. We don't know everything about one another, even after all this time. That’s the beauty of a relationship. We get to learn new things about each other.”

Dean grinned.

“Anything else you want to tell me?”

“No, but I’m sure it will come up. We have our whole lives to learn it all.”

Dean fell silent as the reality of those words crashed over him. A lifetime. He really liked the sound of that.

“Put your seatbelt on, Cas. Our date isn’t over yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry if the Korean isn't exactly right! As for translations, 시장 (sijang) is the Korean word for market, and 나는 약간의 한국어를 (naneun yaggan-ui hangug-eoleul) means "I speak some Korean". Thank you all for the incredible amount of support this story has! I love reading your comments! Just a note, GISHWHES 2014 starts soon, and I'm participating, so that first week of August is going to be beautiful and insane, and I may not have time to update. Dean and Cas still have a few more places to go for their date!


	19. Chapter 19

Dean pulled into another parking lot, and Cas glanced around expectantly before his eyes landed on the sign above one store.

“Smoke and Lines?” Cas asked.

“I know, it sounds like some hippie shit, but wait ‘til you see inside,” Dean promised, and he and Cas climbed out of the car and headed inside the dimly lit shop.

From the second they made it in the door, Cas was staring open-mouthed. True, one corner was dedicated to a curious assortment of tobacco and oddly shaped bongs. A weathered old man with long hair sat behind the counter, eyes glazed over as he read through a dusty book. Every other spare space in the room was filled with books of all shapes and sizes. Cas let go of Dean’s hand immediately to begin to sort through them.

He had picked out a few books, including an old English book from the late 1800s and a dilapidated antique photo album, long forgotten by the family of those pictured, when his eyes landed on a particular title and he stifled a quick gasp.

Dean chuckled.

“What’d you find, Cas?” he asked, and Cas quickly handed him his books to pull the title out of the shelf.

“It’s T.S. Eliot. He’s-”

“Your favorite poet. Damn, that’s an old book,” Dean said, peering over his shoulder, and Cas rustled through the pages gently, his eyes landing on a poem and beginning to read silently.

“Can I get this?” Cas asked, eyes shining. “I’ll put the others back.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Cas. We’re getting all three.”

Dean and Cas went to the counter to buy the books, and were surprised when the old man put them in a bag and simply handed them over.

“How much do we owe you?” Dean asked, and the man waved his hand.

“Nothing. You just take care of those books.”

“No, we can’t do that-,” Dean began, but the man cut him off.

“I don’t sell ‘em.”

“I’m sorry, but do you realize what these books are worth?” Cas asked. “I can’t just _take_ them.”

The old man turned a dazed eye toward Cas.

“You think I don’t know what some folks pay for this stuff?” he asked. “It’s not about the money. It’s about getting these things into the hands of people who will treat them right. I get these books from yard sales, estate sales, or just donations when someone snuffs it and their family doesn’t want to deal with it. This is history, man.”

“It is,” Cas agreed. “How can you afford to stay open though?”

He wheezed a laugh.

“I sell enough tobacco and other shit to keep the stoners comin’ back. That’s my job. Getting those books to someone who loves them? That’s my calling.”

“Thank you,” Cas said, and he and Dean made their way to the exit.

“Free love!” Dean called over as he left, grinning widely.

“Hell yeah! Fight the man!” the old man called back, and Dean laughed good naturedly.

“I can’t believe he just gives these away,” Cas said, lovingly holding his new books and pictures.

“They’re going to a good home,” Dean said, nudging Cas with his shoulder before opening their doors. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” Cas said, climbing into his seat and opening his book to read through the poems again.

“Let’s go. We’ve got a dinner date with Annie and Eli.”

Cas read his poetry book the entire way to the restaurant, and only reluctantly left it in the car. Dean clasped his hand as they walked into the restaurant, and Annie met them at the door, looking happy, though tired. She smiled when she saw the boys.

“Back again?” she asked.

“We told Eli we’d come back to visit. Is he here?” Dean asked.

“He is. Come with me to back room?” Annie asked, and Dean and Cas followed her.

Annie led them to the back of the restaurant, through the kitchen, and into a side office where Eli sat, eyes closed.

“Eli? Dean and Cas here,” Annie said, and Eli opened his eyes.

“Back so soon? Just can’t get enough of Annie’s cooking, huh?” he asked.

“Never. Besides, we said we’d come see you,” Dean said. 

“Starting next week, you get to come see me at God’s Waiting Room,” Eli grunted, and Annie gave him a sharp look.

“Sorry, where?” Cas asked, and Annie sighed.

“He going to live at Cherrywood Home. I can’t take care of him the way he needs,” Annie said sadly, but Eli brought her hand to his lips to kiss it.

“You take care of me perfectly. It just isn’t fair to make you do it, especially when we know what’s coming,” Eli said, and he glanced toward Cas and Dean. “It’s a hospice home…end of life care.”

“I’m so s-,” Cas began, but Eli cut him off.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Ain’t no use in feeling sorry for me. Like I told you, Dean, that doctor doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”

“We’ll come see you there. Maybe I can sneak in a pie,” Cas offered.

“God, it’s worth going there just to have Cas bake for you. Best pie I’ve ever had,” Dean said, and Annie clasped her hands to her mouth.

“You hungry! Go sit down, I bring you food!” she said, and ran off to the kitchen.

“How’s she taking it?” Dean asked Eli.

“Like she does everything else,” Eli said with a smile. “With lots of cooking and kisses. I used to say too many kisses, but given the situation, I’ll take all I can get.”

“How long?” Cas asked hesitantly.

“The doc said a few months, tops. I decide when to check out, though, and I ain’t ready yet. You two go get a table before she comes back in here and drags you out.”

Dean and Cas recognized the dismissal and headed out to the serving area. They sat in their booth from before, in the darkened area of the restaurant, and were soon piling all manner of food onto their plates as Annie sat different plates in front of them.

“What’s this one?” Dean asked Cas, pointing at a mushy, cold orange square.

“Goguma.”

“Bless you,” Dean replied, and Cas kicked him lightly under the table.

“It means sweet potato. Eat it, you’ll like it.”

Dean nibbled a tiny piece, then shoved the whole thing into his mouth. 

“You’re a charmer,” Cas said, raising his eyebrows, and Dean grinned around his food.

He swallowed and met Cas’ eye across the table. Dean had grown used to the way Cas watched him, as though he were the only thing in existence, but he never tired of seeing it. Cas grinned at Dean when he noticed him watching, and Dean was happy to see it. After everything Cas had been through lately, he was astounded he could smile at all. He reached across the table and took Cas’ hand.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, for the hundredth time that week, and Cas sighed.

“I’m fine,” Cas replied, and Dean pursed his lips in worry.

A few days after everything had happened between Crowley, Cas, and Dean, the boys had gone to Mary’s for dinner, and she had reluctantly told them everything. How Naomi had found out she was pregnant, then discovered Crowley’s true life. How Naomi wanted to do what was best for Cas, and kicked Crowley out, only to have him begin to call constantly and show up at the house when he was in the states. There had been no affair, no struggle for Crowley to stay in Cas’ life, and no lies from Cas’ mother. It had eased Cas’ mind, but Dean thought the damage from Crowley was still present.

“Are you sure? I mean, you know the truth now, and you know Naomi didn’t lie to you, but everything that happened with Crowley…man, I don’t even know how you’re functioning right now.”

“It’s simple, Dean,” Cas said. “Fergus wasn’t a part of my life. He came in, he’s gone, and nothing is any different.”

“It _has_ to be different. He nearly killed us both.”

“So did Raphael.”

“Yeah, but he’s not your father,” Dean said pointedly.

“Neither is Fergus,” Cas replied. “A father is more than a sperm donor. It’s the person who raises you, and who loves you. Fergus isn’t my dad.”

“You’re telling me you’ve gone your whole life pissed that he didn’t want you, and you’re just suddenly okay with him not being around?” Dean asked, and Cas shrugged.

“I realized it doesn’t matter if he didn’t want me,” Cas said, and he leaned across the table to speak lower to Dean. “You do. And Mom did. That’s all I need.”

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Dean asked, and he pulled Cas’ hand to his mouth to give it a quick kiss before looking around the table. “And I hope you know, we’re going to be eating leftovers for days.”

Cas laughed, and he and Dean went back to eating their meal, sharing happy glances and easy conversation.

*

Dean and Cas made it home late that night, and after a quick shower each, both boys stretched out in their bed with hands entwined.

“Do you feel okay?” Cas asked. “Your hands are cold.”

Dean pulled the covers over top of him even higher.

“I’m a little cold, actually,” he said, and Cas rose immediately to change the temperature on the air conditioner before climbing back into the bed and cuddling closer to Dean.

“You wanting some action?” Dean joked, but Cas gave him a small pinch.

“I’m using my body heat to keep you warm,” he said.

“Dude, it’s your room, not the wilderness,” Dean said.

“Do you want me to move?” Cas asked.

“Not at all.”

Cas rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, and soon, both boys had fallen asleep, their hands still clasped together.

When Dean awoke the next morning, he knew something was wrong. He felt simultaneously chilled to the bone and achy, with every muscle in his body sore. 

“Ugh,” he managed to say, and Cas rolled over to look at him in the early morning light, his eyes going wide.

“Dean,” he said at once. “You’re sick.”

Cas jumped up and immediately began to check Dean over. He checked his temperature, and when the thermometer read 102.3, he picked up the phone to call Mary.

“Cas, ‘m okay. Don’t call Mom, I’m not ten,” Dean tried to sit up and argue, but he lay back in the bed, head pounding.

Cas gave him a disgruntled look, but Dean’s head was swimming, and he could barely stay awake long enough to hear Cas on the phone with Mary. Snippets of words made sense, but he felt too disoriented to pay attention. Soon, Cas’ cool hand was on his forehead.

“You’ve got the flu,” he said sternly, helping Dean sit up and handing him some Tylenol. “Mary said to get your fever down, and make sure you rest.”

“The flu?” Dean said thickly, gulping down the two tablets.

“Yes,” Cas said, exasperated. “Dean, I _told_ you to get your flu shot. You should have come with me when I got mine.”

“Didn’t though,” Dean said, head swimming again; he lay back down and Cas covered him up.

“Obviously. I’m going to go make you some soup.”

Cas retreated downstairs, and Dean immediately fell into the sort of odd sleep a sick person experiences: dreams mixed with real life sound, variations of hallucinations, and other aspects brought on by his high fever. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled up again to sit by Cas, and some of the achiness and chill had abated.

“Feeling better?” Cas asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, a little bit. What is this?” he asked, looking at the bowl in front of him.

“Chicken noodle soup. Studies have shown the herbs and ingredients help combat illness,” Cas said, and he handed Dean his spoon.

“You can even make having a little bug into a learning experience,” Dean joked, and he tasted the soup. “I don’t know where you learned to cook, but I want to hug whoever taught you.”

“This is Mom’s recipe. You’re lucky I had all the ingredients in the kitchen.”

“It’s good. What time is it?” Dean asked, and Cas checked the clock.

“A little after one. Be sure you drink your water too,” Cas said.

“It’s just the flu, damn,” Dean said with a smile. “What’s that sound? You got the washing machine going?”

“No,” Cas said, face flushing. “I’m filling the bath. It will make you feel better.”

“Cas, you softie,” Dean joked, downing the last of his soup. “Let’s go. Warm water sounds awesome.”

Dean stood with some difficulty and made his way to the bathroom, where the tub was nearly full of steaming water and bubbles.

“A bubble bath?” Dean said, cocking his eyebrow at Cas.

“It seemed relaxing,” Cas said.

“You want relaxing? Get in there with me,” Dean said, turning off the tap and beginning to undress.

“You’re sick,” Cas said. 

“And nothing would make me feel better than your skin on mine in that tub,” Dean said, and he pulled Cas’ shirt above his head. “You can’t catch it, you had your shot.”

“It’s not impossible,” Cas said, but he let himself be undressed by Dean, who then pulled the rest of his own clothes off.

Dean stepped gingerly into the warm water and held out a hand for Cas to join him. Cas sighed, but climbed over the side and both he and Dean settled into the water with contented sounds. Dean and Cas faced each other, legs overlapping with their backs to the sides of the tub.

“Awesome idea,” Dean said, leaning his head back against the tub. “But you’re distracting.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Cas frowned.

“You don’t have to,” Dean said, lifting an eyebrow and gazing at Cas pointedly.

“Dean,” Cas said firmly. “You are _ill_. You shouldn’t overexert yourself.”

“It’s not my fault you look so damn sexy in a bath,” Dean said, thinking that the flu and the medicine were making his tongue loosen; he couldn’t stop talking. “Those lips of yours, that hair…that _body_.”

Cas went red. Hearing Dean talk like this was something he loved. It turned him on more than he’d like to admit, and he pursed his lips. 

“We can’t. You’re sick,” he said, but he could hear his resolve cracking, especially when Dean rubbed his foot up Cas’ thigh.

“Maybe it will help me feel better,” Dean said, and Cas broke.

Cas leaned forward onto his knees in the tub, coming to rest between Dean’s legs. He leaned forward and kissed Dean’s warm neck, and ran his hand down his body until it came to rest on his length in the water. Dean sucked in a breath.

“But no touching me. This is all about you,” Cas said, moving his hand up and down in a slow rhythm. 

“Th-that’s not fair to you,” Dean stuttered out, and he began to move his hips in time with Cas’ strokes.

“I can handle it,” Cas said, and he sucked gently on Dean’s collarbone as he sped up his movements.

“Cas,” Dean said, opening his eyes to meet Cas’. “Don’t stop.”

Cas picked up the pace and Dean began to thrust more harshly, causing some water to slosh over the sides into the floor. Cas moved his lips back onto Dean’s chest and hummed his approval as he kissed his neck.

“So close,” Dean said, and Cas gripped him tighter. “Ah…”

Dean was nearing the edge, and Cas wanted to make him get there. He bared his teeth and bit gently on the ridge of Dean’s collarbone.

“Cas!” Dean shouted out, and he came hard, hips stilling as he spilled into the warm bath water.

Dean rested his head against the side of the tub and panted loudly, while Cas smiled softly and kissed him gently on the forehead. 

“You’re amazing,” Dean said, and Cas climbed out of the tub to dry off. 

“That’s the orgasm talking,” Cas said.

“Maybe,” Dean said, sitting up to get out of the tub himself. “But it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. What’s for dinner?”

“Now you sound like yourself,” Cas said.

*

A few hours later, after dinner and a replay of The Avengers, Dean was starting to feel bad again.

“You don’t feel well,” Cas said.

“I’m okay.”

“It wasn’t a question,” Cas said firmly. “Bed.”

Dean knew it was a lost cause, and he climbed the stairs to their room. His head was starting to swim again, and he felt relieved to lay down in his bed. He instinctively moved over for Cas, who climbed in next to him with his book of T.S. Eliot poetry and began to read silently.

Cas leaned back against the headboard and flipped on his book light so he could turn off the lamp in the room. The air conditioner was turned off in the late summer chill, and Dean could hear the sounds of his quiet town going about their life. Cars occasionally passed in the darkness, headlights bouncing off the walls. It was peaceful, laying there with Cas while the sounds of late summer infiltrated the bedroom and mingled with Cas’ peaceful breathing.

“What are you reading?” Dean asked, unable to sleep after getting so much rest during the day.

“My favorite poem,” Cas murmured.

“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” Dean said suddenly.

“How on Earth do you know that?” Cas asked, surprised.

“You told me once. It’s not exactly an easy name to forget.”

Dean took Cas’ hand in the quiet of the room, his head beginning to pound fiercely, and he was feeling feverish.

“Would you read it to me?” he asked, and he felt Cas move his hand to smooth Dean’s hair and feel his hot forehead.

“Of course,” he said, and he sat up on the bed with his back against the headboard.

Dean hesitated, but moved and laid his head in Cas’ lap. Cas rested his hand on Dean’s head, and as he read, he played with his hair.

“ _Let us go then, you and I,_  
 _When the evening is spread out against the sky…_ ,” Cas read quietly.

Dean slipped in and out of consciousness at the feeling of Cas’ cool hand in his hair and the gravelly sound of his voice dancing over the words of his favorite poem. Every so often, he would awaken to hearing Cas speak some lines with more feeling than others.

“ _And indeed there will be time…Time for you and time for me…I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker…_ ”

The words sounded like magic flowing from Cas’ mouth. Images formed in Dean’s head, whether dream or hallucination, he had no way to tell, and he found he didn’t care. Suddenly, he and Cas were the couple in the story, meandering the streets, Cas speaking the words from the poem.

“ _No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be…_  
 _At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—_  
 _Almost, at times, the Fool…_  
 _I grow old…I grow old…_ ”

The poem ended soon after, and so did Dean’s dream. He opened his eyes, Cas’ hand still rustling in his hair.

“What’s that about?” Dean asked in a muffled tone.

“That’s the best part about poetry. It’s about whatever you want it to be about,” Cas said softly.

“What do you think it’s about then?” Dean asked, and Cas grew silent for a moment.

“I think it’s about getting old, and thinking you’ve got all the time in the world. Then one day, you wake up and realize you’ve wasted all of your life waiting to tell someone something, or do something, and all of your time is gone.”

“I love you,” Dean said, and he kissed Cas gently on the thigh. “You know that?”

“I do,” Cas said. “And I love you too.”

Dean slowly fell asleep, his head in Cas' lap. And though it made his legs ache, and he longed to move, Cas sat in the same position the rest of the night, falling asleep with his head leaned back against the wall, book in his hand, and the heavy warm weight of Dean's head on his legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T.S. Eliot's work is beautiful, and just a disclaimer: I don't own it. I think we may have one more chapter left in this story, but don't worry. I have a sequel planned, and there is so much in store for the boys. Thank you for your support!!


	20. Chapter 20

Summer seemed to fly by, and soon Fall was in full swing. Cas began college, and adored it. He spent hours reading his textbooks and notes, and talking excitedly to Dean about the discussions he had with classmates in the online forums and the new poems he was being introduced to. Everything interested him, and Cas soaked up all the new information, never getting anything below an A.

Sam started back to school, and he and Jess were inseparable, which Dean teased him constantly for.

“Jesus, can you even exist without her around?” Dean said one evening, after Jess had left to go home.

“I don’t know, could you live without Cas?” Sam shot back.

“I’ve come close to having to. Never want to experience that again,” Dean said, and Sam softened.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it-”

Sam’s words were cut off as Dean tackled him backwards into the couch in Mary’s living room. He sat on Sam, hooking his feet under the couch to hold himself into place.

“You cheater! I wasn’t paying attention!” Sam cried, thrashing about.

“Yeah, well, you’re so huge I got to play dirty. Say Uncle.”

“No!” Sam yelled.

“Really?” Dean said, raising a hand threateningly. “You still ticklish on your ribs, Sammy?”

“No, Dean, stop-ah! No, get off!” Sam yelled out as Dean began to tickle him fiercely. “Uncle! _Uncle!_ ”

“Dean? Sam?” Cas came into the room, a drying towel in his hand from helping Mary with the dishes. “Your mother wants me to see if you’re both uninjured.”

“We’re fine,” Dean said, and he hopped off Sam to sit beside him on the couch. Sam sat up as well, looking disheveled.

Cas cast them an appraising look, then headed back into the kitchen. Dean couldn’t help but watch him as he went. Seeing Cas being domestic at home was one thing; when he melded in with Dean’s own family, it caused a familiar sensation to jolt down his body. He didn’t notice Sam looking at him bemusedly.

“You love him,” Sam said, and he smoothed his hair back into place.

“No shit,” Dean answered.

“Poetic. I’m serious, Dean. You love him.”

Dean sighed and settled back into the couch.

“Yeah, I know I do.”

“So? What are you going to do about it?” Sam pressed.

“I already do plenty about it, Sammy. Just last night, we were in bed and I took my tongue and-”

“Dean-no, gross. I mean, you did that stuff with Lisa.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Dean asked.

“Thin walls,” Sam said wryly. “Doesn’t Cas mean more to you than just that…stuff?”

Cas and Mary walked back into the room, talking together with a happy air about them. Cas caught Dean’s eye and smiled, and the billowing warmth in Dean’s chest threatened to bubble over. How could Sam even compare Lisa to Cas? Sure, Lisa had been fun (and hot), but the feelings Dean had for Cas were infinitely stronger. Dean stood and crossed the room to take Cas’ hand in his own, feeling his pulse increase when he touched his hand.

“We really need to go. It’s a school night, and _some_ of us are still in high school. Thanks for dinner, Mom,” Dean said.

“Yes, thank you. I’d like the recipe for your meatloaf,” Cas said.

“It’s a secret family recipe,” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

“And Cas is family,” Mary said, pulling both boys into a quick hug. “I’ll have it for you when you come over again.”

Dean and Cas said goodnight and headed back to their house. After a quick shower, they settled into their own bed in Cas’ room. Though he kept Naomi’s door open now, and had even tried sleeping with Dean in the larger bed a few times, they always returned to the small twin bed in Cas’ bedroom. Cas said it was because of familiarity; Dean thought it was because that room was where he had unknowingly fallen in love with Cas over the course of their childhood.

“Cas?” Dean said from his side of the bed.

“Hmm?” Cas answered, absorbed in one of his textbooks.

“The cinema is starting Rocky Horror showings this weekend,” Dean said, watching Cas for a reaction.

“Oh?” Cas said, eyes still scanning the page.

Dean sighed, and he gently pressed the book into Cas’ lap until he was able to see his blue eyes staring inquisitively at his own.

“Yes,” he said. “And you owe me a date.”

“We’re supposed to go see Eli this weekend,” Cas reminded Dean.

“We will. And Saturday night, we’ll go to the movies, just like we said we would. Deal?” Dean asked.

Cas placed a bookmark in his book and set it on the nightstand before rolling over on top of Dean and kissing him. He pressed down with his hips and Dean gave an involuntary twitch of his own.

“Deal, as long as you promise to help me make Eli’s cherry pie this weekend, and don’t eat the filling like you did last time.”

Cas pressed into him again, rolling his hips, and Dean clenched his eyes shut.

“You keep doing that and I’ll promise you anything you want,” he said.

Cas laughed and leaned in to catch his lips again. They spent far too long shedding their clothes and pushing each other to the brink of pleasure, but when the alarm rang the next morning for work, Dean didn’t regret any of it.

*

Dean had kept his word, mostly, and only eaten two big scoops of the cherry pie filling as he and Cas made the pie on Friday night. The next morning, when Cas was getting ready to go to Lincoln with Dean, he came downstairs to wrap the pie for the trip, and was surprised to see that Dean had already done it.

“You didn’t eat any of it last night, did you?” Cas asked, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“It’s for Eli.”

“I’m not sure that would stop you,” Cas teased.

“Yeah, well…it’s different this time.”

Dean and Cas loaded into the Impala and were soon at the nursing home. They signed in at the front desk and headed to room 215. Annie was already sitting in her usual chair beside Eli’s bed, hand in his, as they both watched a soap opera.

“Hey, good lookin’,” Dean said as he sauntered into the room, and Eli grinned widely at him and Cas, pointing at the pie. “Yeah, it’s cherry. Made it last night.”

Eli drew a deep, rattling breath.

“Thank…you,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“You’re very welcome. I’m surprised I could keep Dean out of it long enough to get it here.”

“Have…a…piece,” Eli said to Dean, and Annie stood to go get some paper plates from the nurse station. 

“I’ll come with you,” Dean said, and he followed Annie out the door.

Annie took Dean by the hand as soon as she was in the hall and squeezed it gently.

“How long?” Dean asked her softly.

“The doctor said anytime. He held on longer than expected,” Annie said, and she took some supplies from the closet to the left of the nurse’s desk. “He better today with you and Cas here.”

“And how is my favorite patient doing today? Does he need anything?” a plump nurse asked from behind the desk.

“Maybe he can have pain medicine? He say his chest hurt,” Annie said, and the nurse nodded.

“Sure thing. Let me just fill out his chart, and we’ll take it to him.”

*

“So, how are you feeling today?” Cas asked once Dean and Annie had left the room for the plates.

“Like…shit,” Eli said, then huffed out a laugh which turned at once to a cough.

Cas rose at once to give him his oxygen mask, but Eli waved it away, catching his breath slowly.

“Not…long…now,” Eli said, turning watery eyes to Cas as though daring him to pity him; Cas knew better.

“It may be a long time. Stranger things have happened,” Cas said, attempting to ease Eli’s mind.

“I…hope…not,” Eli said in a stronger voice. “This…isn’t…living…And…it’s…not…fair…to…Annie.”

Speaking so much had made Eli gasp for air and wheeze loudly. Cas grabbed a notepad and pen from the shelf in his room and pressed it into Eli’s hands before sitting down beside him.

“Write it down. It will be easier,” Cas said.

Eli scribbled something down and handed the pad to Cas, who read it aloud.

“‘She shouldn’t have to see me like this.’ I don’t think she’d want to be anywhere else but by your side. Don’t feel guilty over it,” Cas said, and Eli took the notepad back to scribble something else before handing it back to Cas, who read, “Why are you here?”

Cas put the notebook down on the bed and looked at Eli’s curious eyes.

“Because you’re important to me, and to Dean,” he said honestly.

“You…barely…know…me,” Eli wheezed out.

“We’ve been coming to see you weekly since the summer. And even if I barely knew you, I’d still want to bake you pies.”

“They’re…good,” Eli grinned, and he took the notepad back from Cas to write in it again before handing it back.

“‘Dean is a lucky boy.’ Thank you, but I’m the lucky one,” Cas said fondly.

Eli took the notepad back and wrote again, taking a much longer time than he had before. When he finally handed it back to Cas, his face was set with a strange mix of fondness and sadness. Cas read the note aloud, his voice only wavering a bit.

“‘You’re both lucky to have found each other. Remember that when you’re fighting over something stupid in the middle of the night. You fight, but you forgive. Kiss each other as much as you can. Remind each other how much you love each other, and never go to bed mad. Do stupid things together. Enjoy every second, every breath, because it’s gone so fast.’ Eli…thank you.”

Eli grinned at him.

“No…damn…crying,” he said, and Cas chuckled.

Dean and Annie came back into the room, trailed by a nurse carrying a needle.

“You need some medicine?” she asked kindly, and Eli rolled his eyes.

“I’m…fine,” he said.

“Eli, take the medicine,” Cas said softly. “It will help.”

Eli met Cas’ gaze, and he nodded his approval to the nurse, who gave him the injection quickly.

“That should kick in soon,” she said. “You call me if you need anything.”

She left, and Dean and Annie served up the pie. They chatted a bit, Eli chiming in occasionally by writing for longer sentences. Eli savored the pie, telling Cas it was good, and when everyone was done he settled back into his bed to finish his shows. He looked pale and drawn, but content. Soon, it was time for Dean and Cas to leave.

Dean and Cas hugged Annie, and Cas bent down to hug Eli before Dean did. Eli hugged him gingerly, and when he stood, Eli ripped out the page with his message to Cas from earlier and handed it to him.

“Remember,” he said, and Cas nodded.

“I will.”

Dean swooped in for a hug after that, and Eli patted him on the back like he was a favored nephew.

“You…love…that…boy…every…day,” Eli whispered into his ear.

“I’d like to see someone try and stop me,” Dean said, and he stood. “Annie, call me if you need anything. We’ll see you two next week.”

Annie nodded, and Eli smiled, taking in a large breath.

“Goodbye…boys.”

*

Dean and Cas had barely made it back home when their phone rang. Dean unlocked the door quickly and picked it up while Cas sat down on their sofa. Within minutes, Dean hung up the phone and sat down on the couch next to Cas.

“That was Annie,” he said, and Cas knew what was coming. “Eli just passed away.”

“Would she like us to come back?” Cas asked.

“No. I offered, but she said she needs some time.”

Dean turned his eyes toward the floor, and Cas gently placed his hand on Dean’s knee.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Dean sighed.

“Yeah, actually. I’m going to sound like a horrible person, but I’m kind of relieved.”

“That’s not horrible,” Cas said. “Long illnesses take their toll on the family and friends of those who are sick. Eli was done fighting, and he told me so.”

“He said he was going to decide when to check out, and he did. He left on his own terms, and I’m happy we at least got the chance to tell him goodbye,” Dean said, and Cas leaned in to kiss him softly on the cheek.

“Still, it isn’t an easy thing to go through. Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

Eli’s words flashed through Dean’s mind. _You love that boy every day._

“Yeah,” Dean replied with a smile. “You can go on that date with me.”

“Deal. One catch,” Cas said, standing and stretching.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, following him up the stairs.

“You have to wear a costume.”

*

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Dean huffed as he and Cas sat in the theater.

“You look wonderful,” Cas said, straightening his own costume.

“I look like a jackass,” Dean grumbled, but Cas simply arched a brow, and he leaned over to whisper in Dean’s ear.

“I want to peel you out of that leather,” Cas whispered, and Dean’s eyes widened as the lights in the theater dimmed to announce the beginning of the movie.

Dean reluctantly tore his eyes off of Cas to watch the lips begin to sing onscreen, and soon everyone in the theater was singing along. The people in audience were obvious fans who knew every word and every line. Dean and Cas nearly sang themselves hoarse when the Time Warp came on. Dean glanced at Cas out of the corner of his eye, dressed in the same garb as Tim Curry’s character, and his heart beat a little faster.

When the last song played, and the final scene was over, Dean and Cas rose to applaud with the rest of the movie goers, then headed out into the dark autumn evening.

“Want to go for a walk?” Dean asked, and Cas glanced down at his clothes.

“In this?” he asked.

“You can wear my jacket,” Dean said.

“This conversation sounds familiar,” Cas pointed out, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah. Here’s to hoping it goes better than last time.”

Dean and Cas walked along the narrow dirt path that winded throughout the park. They passed the bench where Raphael had sat, and made their way off to a side path. The air was thick with the smells of autumn, and the scent of someone’s fire was wafting across the path. Leaves crunched under their feet, and in the peaceful moment, Dean reached out and took Cas’ hand, leading him off the path and down near the river. They sat on the stony shore and watched the water roll lazily by.

“I tried to get you down here for years to go fishing,” Dean said, breaking the silence. “But you never wanted to go.”

“You’ve seen my skills. You would have spent the entirety of our trip getting my line loose from the trees,” Cas said.

“Worth it.”

Dean and Cas fell silent, and Dean began to get extraordinarily nervous. Cas, on the other hand, stared peacefully across the water.

“I love the way you perform,” Dean sputtered out, and Cas looked at him, surprised. “I mean, when you read poetry, it comes to life. And your face when you do it. It’s like every muscle relaxes and I see this pure happiness come out. I only see you look like that when you’re reading poetry…and when you’re looking at me.”

Cas smiled and leaned in to kiss Dean gently. When he pulled away, Dean sighed contentedly and raised up on his knees to face Cas.

“I love you. I love you so much, and I want to do something about it. I look at you and I see everything we’ve ever done together. I remember days at the pool, school dances, and basically my entire life since first grade, because you have been there every step of the way...I want to be there for you every day from now on,” Dean said, and with shaking hands, he produced a small box from his pocket.

“Dean,” Cas whispered quietly, and he took the box from Dean’s waiting hands.

Cas opened the lid and saw a golden pocket watch similar to the compass he had given Dean. This, however, was new. The front was etched with an ornate engraving of books, each with the name of one of Cas’ favorite poets on the spine. He pressed the release latch, and looked at the beautiful face of the watch, before an engraving on the inside caught his attention. He squinted in the darkness and held the watch close to his face to read the words written there.

_And indeed there will be time._  
 _Time for you and time for me._

Cas mouthed along with the words to his favorite poem, which had suddenly taken on a different meaning.

“Cas,” Dean said, drinking in his every reaction. “Marry me.”

“Dean,” Cas repeated, a look of horror crossing his face. “I’m always going to remember this moment as you being romantic, and me being in thigh-high boots.”

Dean burst out laughing and wrapped Cas up in his arms.

“You’re perfect, I swear. Are you going to answer me?” Dean asked, holding him close.

“Yes,” Cas replied.

“Is that my answer? Or are you planning on telling me later?”

“That’s your answer, Dean Winchester,” Cas said, turning in Dean’s arms to be able to kiss him again. “Yes.”

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this story had me grinning like an idiot. A sequel is in the works, and I have to be honest...this is planned on being a 4-part series. There's a bright future ahead for the boys, and a lifetime full of stories. Thank you for reading this story, commenting, leaving kudos, or even following me on tumblr! The sequel is out now, and a link can be found in the next chapter of this story, or you can go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2178636/chapters/4767501 to read it. Thank you for loving the boys as much as I do.


	21. Chapter 21

Thank you so much for your support of this story! I loved writing it, and their story isn't over yet.

The sequel has been started, and the first chapter is up now. 

http://archiveofourown.org/works/2178636/chapters/4767501


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